


Save the Last Dance For Me

by culturevulture73, roane



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Competence Kink, Competition, Crack Treated Seriously, Dancing, Dancing with the stars - Freeform, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Reality TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/culturevulture73/pseuds/culturevulture73, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The New Republic has been after Luke, Leia, and Han to commit to doing some PR work. Their ideas have ranged from bad to worse. When they come to Leia with the notion of one of the trio starring on a holonet competition show, the last thing she and Han expect is for Luke to volunteer to go on <em>Dancing Across the Galaxy</em>. </p><p>And nobody expected him to actually try and <em>win</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foxtrot

**Author's Note:**

> So culturevulture had this idea for [a gifset where Luke goes on Dancing with the Stars](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/146780443788/who-knew-jedi-could-dance-jedi-knight-luke), and she wrote up part of it, and I made the gifs, but the idea just sort of... exploded. So we started working on this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter will have its own accompanying gifset. [The gifset for chapter one is here.](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/147212722623/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and)

The Skywalker-Organa-Solo apartment on Coruscant was nothing grand by Coruscanti standards (or Alderaanian ones, for that matter), but it was by far the most palatial place that either Luke or Han had ever lived. Leia said it struck a balance between being worthy of a senator and two war heroes, and being modest enough to avoid being showy. 

Luke thought it was pretty damn showy. 

Still, on nights like this, when dinner was long over and it was just the three of them, sprawled comfortably in the living area, each caught up in their own pursuits, he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Han was muttering over some schematics from the _Falcon_ , Leia was going over some of her endless piles of paperwork, and Luke was caught up in an ancient Jedi manuscript he’d managed to find on one of his searches. Their mindset had been so different than Ben’s or Yoda’s—or maybe they’d just given up on trying to enforce all the rules with Luke. 

“Damn it,” Leia growled. “I have told that woman ‘no’ a hundred times.”

Both men looked up, concerned. “Leia?” Han spoke first.

Leia glanced away from her datapad, as if surprised she’d spoken aloud. “Oh, it’s nothing. Someone over at Holonet 13 keeps pestering me to make an appearance on one of their shows. You know, one of those competition shows.”

A grin broke out over Han’s face. “Like those racing shows where you’d have to run around the city looking for clues?”

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

Luke might have kept quiet until she told them not to laugh. He met Han’s eyes—another mistake—and they started choking the sound back. “You’d be great,” Luke said lamely, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“You’re so good with taking orders as part of a team,” Han added, and then the two of them were off again, snickering.

“You two can laugh all you want—she wants one or both of you too.”

Han stopped laughing. “Now wait a minute. You’re the one in the public eye. I’m just a private citizen these days, trying to do an honest day’s work—”

Luke snorted.

“—an _honest day’s work_ ,” Han stubbornly repeated. “You and Junior here are the ones out there trying to change the face of the galaxy.”

“Why do they want us?” Luke asked.

“Well, ratings for them,” Leia said. “And some of my staff keep insisting it would be good publicity for the New Republic. I don’t know, some poodoo about showing us as human beings, making us more relatable.” She waved a hand.

Luke thought about the people who treated him with a faint sense of awe, how conversations stopped when he entered a room. Once or twice, people had tried to bow to him, the “last Jedi knight”. He hated it. Not the least because he had no intention of staying the last Jedi for much longer, but finding students was proving harder than he’d expected. No one with any potential thought they were worthy (which alone made them worthy), and the people who _wanted_ to become Jedi had no business doing so.

“Do you think it would work?” he asked. “Being more relatable? I mean, would that be good for the Republic?”

Leia eyed him closely, her mind brushing over his. She didn’t do it often, although he’d tried to encourage her to practice more. “It’s probably good publicity, if we’re careful and don’t let them put us on a show that’s too ridiculous.” She gave Han a stern look. “No running around any cities. There’s a cooking show they mentioned, and that dance show—”

Han chortled. “ _Dancing Across the Galaxy_? Oh that’s great. We should put Luke on that. Can you imagine?” 

Stung, Luke said, “What can you imagine?”

“Well I mean, you’re great with a lightsaber in your hand, kid, but you ain’t always the most graceful guy around.”

“I’m graceful,” Luke protested, his voice rising to a pitch it hadn’t hit much since he’d left Tatooine, and he cringed internally. “Leia, tell him, I can dance.”

Leia see-sawed her hand. “I mean… you’ve never stepped on my feet, but…”

“I can dance,” Luke insisted stubbornly. “Put me on that one. I’ll do it.”

Han and Leia exchanged a look that said they were going to try to talk him out of a bad idea. 

“I mean it,” Luke said. “You know I’m the best choice right now. Leia’s too busy, and Han—I mean, you’re great in a cockpit and all, but you ain’t always the most diplomatic guy around.”

Han rolled his eyes at Luke’s impression of him. 

“Look, the most likely outcome is, what, I do this for a couple of weeks and lose, then we’re done.”

Leia wore a thoughtful expression. “It would get this holonet exec off my back for a while,” she admitted. “But Luke… we’re talking about billions of viewers all around the galaxy. Aren’t you worried about, I don’t know, Jedi dignity?”

It was Han’s turn to snort.

“Maybe if I’m more relatable I can find some people willing to train with me,” Luke said. 

Leia chewed on her lower lip, which always made Luke want to reach out and tug it free. Han got there first.

“You’re thinkin’ awful loud there, Senator.”

Leia glanced between them. “They do a lot of personal interviews for these shows. Try to get the contestant’s life story. They’re going to go digging for anything they can get. Are we ready to go public?”

Han and Luke looked at each other. “Wouldn’t take a genius to put it together,” Han said. “I think the Alliance rumor mill had us figured out before we did.”

“Leia’s right though, that’s not the same as the entire galaxy.” Luke reached for Leia’s hand. “Would it hurt your career?”

“Being in a three person relationship? No. The Galactic Senate is a little more open-minded than that. But Luke, if anyone finds out who you and I are—”

“No one’s going to,” Han said. “We’re the only ones who know who your father was. If the Empire knew, they would’ve already put it out there.”

“You can help me get ready for the interviews,” Luke told Leia, squeezing her hand. “I’ve seen you. You never give anything away.”

She frowned at him and he got a faint glimpse of her thoughts, hanging over them like a furrowed brow. Secrets were fine for her, but she didn’t like the idea of him having to keep them.

“It’ll be fine,” Luke said. 

“If you’re sure.” Leia was wavering, he could tell. 

“I’m sure. I’ll do it.”

Leia leaned across the couch and kissed him. “I’ll let her know.”

#

The night the first episode was set to air, Han was as far away from Coruscant as he could manage. He made excuses to Leia and to Luke, saying that he had business he couldn’t avoid, but he wasn’t sure that either of them believed him. Luke had been so busy with training and rehearsals over the past few weeks, Han had barely seen him anyway. But there was no power in the universe that could have kept him on Coruscant. If he’d been there, Leia would’ve made him go to the show. And Han was too nervous for that.

Still, that night Han was in a spacers’ bar, sharing a few drinks with Wedge Antilles. He kept a close watch on the holovid projector overhead, and when the show’s logo flashed across the empty space shouted over the din at the bartender, “Turn that up!” He waved a twenty-cred chip, and the bartender grudgingly complied.

Wedge stared at the holoprojector. “ _Dancing Across the Galaxy_? Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Luke’s on.” The sound went up and the chip went across the bar. 

“No, seriously?”

“Yeah. Look.” 

The opening number was blaring across the bar, something loud and brassy. Couples were trotting out one at a time, and there was Luke, wearing the same sort of glittery overdone costume as the other men on stage, with a gorgeous redhead on his arm. Han blinked, a little thunderstruck. Luke was actually keeping up with her. It wasn’t much more than a bouncy walk to the beat as the announcer introduced them, “Luke and Arica!” But Luke looked… comfortable.

“Sith hell,” Wedge swore. “And he did this of his own free will? He didn’t lose a bet?”

“It’s something him and Leia cooked up.” Han couldn’t tear his eyes off the projection. Luke was grinning like the kid Han first picked up off that dustball. The number ended and they went to the advertisements. 

“He’s gonna get knocked off tonight, I bet,” Wedge said.

Han didn’t disagree, but loyalty insisted that he argue. “I don’t know. Kid’s full of surprises.” He barely paid attention to who the other contestants were. Wasn’t like he spent a lot of time watching holovids. Wedge, on the other hand, seemed to know who _everyone_ was.

“That’s Jorlonn Shijou,” Wedge said, pointing out a human male of maybe fifty to sixty Standard years. “He used to a big star, but he just vanished before the war started. Nobody knows what happened to him.”

Han half-listened, signaling the bartender for another round. 

“The kid there is Coby Stanrho. He used to do holovids for kids, but they’re trying to get him to branch out,” Wedge was saying, pointing at a kid with fluffy blond hair and a blinding smile.

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“Listen, you spend as much time alone on long trips through hyperspace as I have, you get desperate for entertainment.”

The only contestant Han _had_ heard of was Devonoa Colslo, a Pamarthan pilot who’d won the Five Sabers race two years running. She was a hell of a pilot; Han had met her once. Like most Pamarthan pilots, she was loud and rough and didn’t take any poodoo from anybody. He wasn’t sure how she’d wound up on a dance show.

They had to sit through most of the show, Han getting antsier by the minute. “What’s taking so long?” he groused.

“No, it’s a good sign,” Wedge said. “If they’re putting him on late in the episode, he must be pretty good.”

Wedge filled him in on every single thing that was happening, who the judges were, who the hosts were. Han had never heard of any of these people. It was like seeing a whole new galaxy open up in front of him.

“Shh, there’s Luke!” Han cut Wedge off, and let out a low whistle. “Wonder what Leia bribed him with to get him back into uniform.”

Because there he was, larger than life with a slightly sheepish smile on his face, wearing his old Republic dress uniform, which as far as Han knew, he hadn’t worn since the first day of the new Senate. “I’m Luke Skywalker. I fought for the Alliance and helped form the New Republic.” They cut away to footage of him smiling at the Senate dedication, his attention riveted to Leia while she gave a speech. Han’s heart contracted a little, the way it did every time he saw that look on Luke’s face. 

Luke went on, as a montage showed of him: in pilot orange, conferring gravely with other pilots about something, laughing at something Han said (when the hell had anyone gotten that footage?). “When the producers contacted me, I gave it a lot of thought before saying yes. I knew I needed a new challenge, but I also knew that a lot of people have the wrong idea about what the Jedi were—and what I am.” His smile softened a little. “Now’s my chance to show everyone that we’re just normal people, not scary wizards.”

Wedge snorted and Han elbowed him. 

“Whoa,” said Wedge, “she’s new.”

“I’m Arica Pradeux. I’ve been a Standard dance champion on the Mid Rim circuit and this is my first season on _Dancing Across the Galaxy_.”

Han might’ve paused, drink midway to his mouth. _Damn._ Arica had long coiling red hair and sharp, arresting features, gorgeous enough anyway, but then she smiled and everything amped up to almost blinding. 

“I’m hoping to get Luke Skywalker. I’ve always wanted to meet a real hero, and I think he could be a great dancer.” Her smile widened like she was about to add something, but then she didn’t.

Cut to the a large rehearsal studio, where Arica was waiting, fidgeting with her hands. Luke walked into the studio and Han’s face started to tingle. _Leia, what did you do?_

Because that had to be her doing. Luke was wearing a pair of almost shockingly form-fitting pair of black pants, soft shoes, and an over-sized gray sleeveless shirt with a Rebellion firebird symbol, faded but visible, on the front. He managed to look strong but also a little shy and vulnerable at the same time, and that was just playing dirty Sabacc.

Han suddenly started to regret being light-years away from home tonight.

A group of three women sitting at one of the nearby tables stopped their conversation to look up at the projection. One of them whistled. “I had no idea he was so _pretty_.”

“You didn’t?” said one of her companions. “Oh, _I_ could have told you, believe me…”

“Look at those _arms_.”

At that point Han tuned them out, gritting his teeth. 

On screen Arica was beaming at Luke. “I can’t believe I actually got you! I have always wanted to meet you.”

Luke ducked his head like he did every time someone gave him a compliment, smiling as they shook hands. “I’m afraid you’re going to have your hands full. I haven’t danced much before.”

“Just do what I tell you,” Arica said, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “and you’ll be great.”

“I’m pretty good at following orders.”

Wedge snorted loudly enough to draw attention from folks nearby. “I know a few generals who’d disagree with that.”

It turned out that Wedge was more right than Luke was. Not that Luke didn’t try, of course, but it didn’t look like he was doing so well.

“Okay, that was better,” Arica said, “but try to relax your shoulders. This is supposed to be fun and flowing, not regimented and stiff.”

They tried again. Han couldn’t see any difference, but Arica said it was better. Then she started poking at Luke’s arms, and Han frowned.

“Look.” She moved his left arm into the position she wanted, hands wrapped around his bicep. “Like this.”

The women at the table nearby sighed collectively.

Luke was trying not to laugh. “How am I supposed to hold my arm like this without tensing my shoulders?”

“How do you do it when you’re fighting?”

Han saw the understanding dawn on Luke’s face. “I’m not thinking about it,” Luke said. “I don’t have to anymore.”

Arica beamed up at him, _finally_ letting go of his arm. “And that’s why we rehearse.”

The scene faded out to the live auditorium.The lights went down on the stage, and Han could see just the outlines of Luke and Arica in their starting positions. Damn it, his palms were sweating. _This_ was why he wanted to be off-planet tonight. The name of the dance the announcer gave meant nothing to Han—he’d ask Wedge later, maybe—but when the music started, it was bouncy and cheerful. The lights came up and there they were, each in shades of bright blue. 

As they started to dance, both of them were wearing dazzling smiles—and Han fought the urge to groan. The last time he’d seen Luke smile like that was on Yavin 4, in front of the whole damned Alliance, and Han and Leia had spent the entire evening chasing off over-interested would-be suitors. (And then later, they’d dragged him off to have him all to themselves.)

Han had a very bad feeling about this. That smile was going out over the entire damned galaxy. _Why didn’t he stay home tonight?_

Then the camera cut to Leia, sitting in the front row watching, and Han fought the urge to bang his head against the bar. He knew that look on her face. She was enthralled, and probably more than a little bit turned on, and Luke would be glowing with excitement after this and _Han was on Corellia_. This had been a massive miscalculation.

“He’s good!” Wedge said, surprised. 

“Of course he’s good,” Han said, relieved to hear it. He couldn’t tell—all he knew was that Luke looked happy and that he hadn’t tripped over his own feet or dropped his partner. 

The dance finished with Luke and Arica in what seemed like an overly complicated pose to Han—arms twisted every which way and wrapped around each other somehow. Luke was beaming, his chest heaving a little as he tried to catch his breath. When they broke the pose to head to the host, Arica gave Luke a little smile and something about it made Han bristle.

“It turns out the Hero of the New Republic is a hero on the dance floor as well!” exclaimed the male host. “Luke and Arica just took the audience by storm!” He turned them toward the three judges. “Let’s start with Alin Vebb, what did you think of Luke and Arica, Alin?”

“Uh oh,” said Wedge. “He’s the tough one. He doesn’t like _anything_.”

Alin Vebb, it turned out, was the Mon Calamari sitting in the middle of the judges table. He drew a moist breath before speaking. “That was quite serviceable for a first week’s performance.” The crowed booed, but he went on. “Obviously you’re comfortable with footwork, but you were too stiff and uncomfortable much of the time.”

Close on Luke, who was listening intently and nodding.

“I disagree!” the judge to his right said—Han didn’t catch his name, but he was human. “I thought you were a delight, so much joy coming from both of you. You work very well together!” Luke and Arica glanced at each other and smiled, and Han felt his hackles rising again. He really had to stop, or this was going to be a very long season.

“I agree with Bredan,” the third judge, a lovely Togruta woman, said. “You both looked like you were having so much fun out there. Luke, there’s definitely room for improvement with your technique, but you’ve got the most important part down already. I loved it!”

The audience approved. Arica and Luke headed for the balcony area where the other couples were watching the show, and waited for their scores. 

There was a Twi’lek hostess waiting for them. “Now, Arica, you seemed awfully excited to find out that your partner was Luke. Can you tell us why?” 

Arica looked a little flustered, color rising in her cheeks as she and Luke stood with their arms around each other’s waists— _okay that was what all the other couples did_ , Han told himself.

“I’ve always wanted to meet him,” she confessed. “Can you blame me? He’s been great to work with.”

“Arica’s a good teacher,” Luke said. “Really patient—and believe me, I’ve been told before I take a lot of patience to teach.”

The hostess laughed more than the joke required. “I’m guessing you mean your Jedi instructors?”

Luke nodded. “And everyone I served under in the Alliance.”

Han watched with a growing sense of awe. He knew Leia had been coaching him, but Luke seemed completely at ease, bantering with the hosts and his partner. It was a side of him Han had never imagined. 

The scores, when they came, didn’t mean anything to Han, but Wedge said they were good for the first week. Luke and Arica came in second behind that holovid child star—who Han now hated for no rational reason.

The host had barely said goodbye with Han was sliding off his barstool. “I gotta go,” he told Wedge, patting him on the shoulder before throwing some credits on the bar. “Good to see you.”

If he pushed it, he could be back home to Coruscant in a few hours.


	2. Paso Doble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The gifset for chapter 2](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/147401850733/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and) is what started all of this.

Luke hadn’t been this tired or sore since training with Master Yoda on Dagobah. But there was no time off waiting for him—after the success of last night, it was back to rehearsal with Arica for next week’s performance. He crawled out of bed leaving Leia behind. Han, who’d come home unexpectedly late the night before, was already gone again.

Or not gone. Luke found him in the kitchen, with a blessedly large pot of caf. “What are you doing up already?” He stretched, feeling the ache deep in muscles he’d forgotten he had.

“Hey kid.” He smiled and Luke felt a sudden rush of warmth remembering the _enthusiastic_ welcome home he’d gotten from both Han and Leia the night before. “You okay this morning?”

“Tired, but I’ll live.” Luke poured a mug of caf and sat down across from Han, who was flipping through his datapad. “Anything happening this morning?”

“Oh, _everybody’s_ talking about you. You wowed ‘em.” Han wrinkled his nose and looked up at Luke. “I can’t believe you actually went through with it.”

Luke grinned at him. “I can’t believe after all this time you’re still betting _against_ me. I hear you owe Leia twenty credits.”

“Just a friendly little wager.” Han put down the datapad and leaned back in his chair. “I wanted her to feel good when she won.” He paused, then said, too casually, “So your partner seems nice.”

Han was projecting more than he meant to, and Luke was too tired to try and unravel what he wasn’t saying. “Yeah. She’s a good teacher.” He huffed in amusement. “Obviously.”

“She ain’t hard to look at either.”

The picture was getting a little clearer for Luke. “Sure, she’s pretty. Has to be in her line of work, I suppose.” Of course Luke had noticed. He’d just spent the better part of a week with Arica either yelling at him or in his arms—or both at the same time. It was a little unsettling, but fun. “Han, if you’re worried about—”

“I’m not worried about anything, I’m just sayin’.” He stood up. “You better get moving or you’re gonna be late.”

Luke watched him go, realizing that Han never had told him what he was doing up so early.

#

The cameras were going while Luke sat cross-legged on the rehearsal room floor, across from Arica. 

“So this week we’re going to talk about everyone’s most memorable year.” She pulled up her knee and rested her chin on it, watching him. “Normally the dance we do would be connected to that somehow.”

“But…?” Supposedly Luke would eventually forget the cameras were on—that’s what Arica told him, and he bet that’s what the producers were counting on too—but for now they were all he could think about.

Arica gave him an innocent look. “You’ll see. I’ve got something special planned for next week.”

Luke laughed. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“This week, let’s surprise everybody.” Arica rose to her feet in a single fluid motion and held her hand out to him. “By the time we’re done, the judges will be _swooning_.”

She pulled him to his feet, and started to show him the steps.

Luke didn’t know about the judges, but by the time they were done rehearsing, he was close to falling over. Last week had been easy in comparison. The dance Arica was teaching him… well, it wasn’t risque, exactly, but it was light years away from the cheerful innocent thing she’d taught him the week before. 

“Just remember, you really have to sell this one with your face,” Arica said, tossing him a towel. “You have to focus on me, look at me like you’re about to hunt me down and devour me.”

“Right.” Luke wiped off his face to hide the blush. 

“Lucky me,” she teased, then laughed. “Trust me, if we get this right, it will bring down the house.” She pulled away the towel from his face and looked up at him. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” he said. He said it without thinking and then wondered—why did he? What was it about her?

“And hey, if it helps, don’t think of me as me. Think of me as, well… somebody else. You do have somebody, don’t you?” 

Was she flirting with him, or was she trying to wheedle personal information out of him in front of the cameras? 

“I’ll be fine,” he said, dodging the question, still mindful of the cameras all around them. 

#

“I don’t see why they have to drag us into this mess,” Han grumbled, following Leia into the living room, which hardly looked like their home anymore. All the furniture had been rearranged to allow for cameras and lights.

“They always do interviews with the family.” Leia glanced back at him, fighting a grin. “Didn’t I tell you?” She didn’t—he never would have agreed otherwise, but they needed to do this for Luke.

“No you did not, and you know you didn’t.”

“Sorry about that.” She wasn’t remotely sorry. Then the interview producer was coming over to her, and Leia put on her best smile. 

“Senator, General, thank you so much for taking the time to invite us into your lovely home.” The Twi’lek woman shook hands with each of them, showing them to their seats on the couch as if it were her home. “We’ll try to get out of your hair as soon as we can.”

“Thanks,” Han said, and Leia nudged him until he added a smile. 

“We’ll ask you some questions about Luke—we really just want the audience to get to know him from his family’s perspective.” She glanced around. “Now, he lives here with the two of you, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” Leia said, not adding anything further. She’d talked to Han about this. Don’t answer more than the question asked, and keep answers short and friendly. Hopefully he’d remember.

The producer waited for Leia to say more, and masked her disappointment when Leia didn’t. 

“Well. All right then. We’ll start recording, if it’s all right with you.”

Leia and Han nodded.

Once the cameras were going, the questions started.

“What was your response when Luke said he was going to be a contestant on _Dancing Across the Galaxy_?”

“I laughed,” Han said. Leia glared at him and he laughed again. “What? I did!”

“Why did you laugh?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think the kid could dance. Guess he’s proved me wrong, hasn’t he?” Han added grudgingly.

“Honestly, we talked about it before Luke made a final decision.” Leia stepped in with a smile. “I thought it was a great idea.”

“And why is that?”

“Well,” Leia considered her answer before going on. “Everyone knows Luke-the-hero and Luke-the-Jedi, but I think they’re missing out to not know more.”

“He’s a terrible cook, for example,” Han said and Leia rolled her eyes.

The producer laughed. “Now I know why you chose our show and not a cooking competition. Tell me how you each met Luke. You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you?”

Han leaned back on the couch, draping his arm across the back—not quite around Leia, who was sitting forward. “I thought everybody knew that story.”

“Humor me.”

Han and Leia exchanged glances, wordlessly determining who should go first. “Luke and his mentor hired my ship to get them off Tatooine,” Han said. His expression softened, and Leia wondered if he knew he was doing it. “Coupla crazy idealists, both of them. Jedi, what are you going to do?”

“You were captured by the Empire, weren’t you?”

Han nodded. “Got caught by the first Death Star.”

“Which is where I was,” Leia interjected. She smiled at Han. “They rescued me.”

“That sounds very romantic,” hinted the producer.

Leia snorted in a most unladylike manner. Breha Organa would’ve been appalled. “It wasn’t remotely romantic, unless you like swimming in garbage and getting shot at.”

Their producer was getting a little annoyed, Leia could tell. They weren’t giving her the story she wanted. Leia had a hard time feeling sorry for her.

“Let’s jump ahead a few years,” the producer said. “How did you feel when Luke came back to the Alliance as a Jedi knight?”

“It wasn’t exactly a surprise,” Leia said. “We knew he’d been training, obviously.”

“We’ve since learned that the Jedi had some pretty strict rules about a lot of things,” the producer said. “Not marrying, staying unattached.”

Leia fought the urge to roll her eyes. _Honestly, interviewers used to be more subtle than this._

“Yes. Luke has been doing a lot of studying.” Leia gave a neutral smile.

“He still is,” Han added. “Luke’s always got his nose in some old history or another.”

“Well, what do you think of what he’s learned?”

“He’s the Jedi here,” Han said. “I don’t understand half of what he’s talking about most of the time anyway. Better him than me. I’ve never been very good at following the rules.”

The producer sighed. Leia could kiss Han—but that would give the producer too much good footage to use.

#

After the previous week, nothing was going to keep Han out of that studio during the show, even though it meant he had to get dressed up and go sit in the audience with Leia. The whole event started with the dress rehearsal.

“Watch your facial expressions,” Leia had warned him ahead of time. “They’ll be watching both of us closely, especially when Luke is on stage.”

Sure. That should be easy, right? Easier than listening to a bunch of strangers discussing Luke’s not-inconsiderable physical merits.

The studio was shockingly small. Han expected some sort of giant arena, but instead got a small, intimate audience.

Leia was talking to the former child star’s parents as Han watched the lighting crew arguing via headset with the producers. The kid’s parents seemed like good people, which made Han wonder exactly why they had gotten their son into show business. Still, they were forging a strange little friendship of being under the spotlight. They planned to start going to dinner on show nights, between dress rehearsals and the airing. Han pretty much expected them to evaporate once this crazy ordeal was over, but he had been wrong before—hell, he had expected to evaporate himself after the Battle of Yavin. 

And here he was, watching Luke do something insane again. Coby—that was the kid’s name—and Luke were across the dance floor, laughing together, waiting to take their places for the group opening number. The pros were off in a meeting somewhere, and Han couldn’t be happier that Arica was elsewhere. Devonoa was on their side of the floor and dropped into the extra seat at their table. 

“I heard you’re looking for parts for a YT-1300 freighter?” Devonoa asked without preamble. The Pamarthens weren’t exactly known for mincing words.

“Always am,” Han said. “How’d you hear that?”

“Heard Skywalker saying he was doing some of the work with you. Surprised me,” she said, refastening her dark hair in a tight knot at the base of her neck. “Didn’t think a hero like that got his hands dirty.”

“Listen, he might be a better mechanic than I am,” Han said, leaning in.

“Said he’s a pilot too—but not like you.”

That was so like Luke. “Kid’s modest. He’s not a racer, but he can fly. More of a fighter pilot though. You might’ve heard of a little thing called the Death Star?”

Devonoa chuckled drily. “Pamarthe stayed out of the war, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t paying attention. Said he flew, what, three years against the Empire?”

Han sighed. “More like five by the time we mopped everything up.” 

“Long damn time to live for a fighter pilot, the way you all were flyin’.”

“True.”

“I will be glad when this over,” she said sourly, trying to arrange the feathered skirt into a comfortable place over her chair. 

“You might have to stay another week,” Han said.

“Nah. That kriffin’ Shijou, for sure he’s stayin’. Anyway, fine by me. I’m damn tired.”

“Luke is too.”

She gave him what passed for her smile. “He’s a nice kid. How the hell did he end up friends with a space dog like you?”

Han laughed. “You’ve never seen the holovids? Thought you said Pamarthe kept up with things. I took him on as a passenger on a charter. We ended up on the Death Star,” he gestured toward Leia. “Rescued her.” He shrugged. “Just went from there.”

“Stinkin’ Corellian luck. You bastards always come up on top.” She grimaced at the floor director waving at her. “Right, yeah, okay, I’m coming. Keep your pants on.” As she stood, she said, “I might have a line on those parts. I’ll catch you after the show."

“Sure, thanks. Uh, good luck.”

Devonoa grunted and pulled a face. “Gonna take a lot more than luck.”

He watched her go, and realized he forgot ask. “Hey, Colslo. How’d you wind up in this mess, anyway?”

She grinned at him over her shoulder as she walked away. “Lost a bet.”

#

Before the cameras started rolling, production people were out getting the audience worked up. The excitement was a tangible, physical thing rolling through the crowd. The crowd varied in age and species, but as near as he could tell, leaned heavily toward more feminine genders. He felt a little out of place.

“Damn, was it like this last week?” Han murmured to Leia.

“It was worse, since it was the first week.”

“I’d hate like to hell have a crowd like this turn on me.”

Finally with countdown, the lights flashed up and the show started. 

“Welcome to _Dancing Across the Galaxy!_ I’m your host, Kelfer Jhcor and I’m here with the ever-lovely Wendella for our second week of competition! Last week, Coby Stanrho took the top spot with his partner Kelann—can he do it twice in a row? Let’s find out!”

Han found himself getting caught up in things, listening to almost total strangers talk about their life stories and then come out and dance, from the holovid stars to Devonoa. It was more compelling from here in the audience, and the time went by quicker than Han would’ve expected.

Luke and Arica were the next-to-last team to compete. Luke had been close-mouthed all week about the dance they were working on, but mentioned that the interview focused on the most memorable year of his life. Han didn’t have a hard time guessing what _that_ would be.

Turned out, he wasn’t wrong. In between footage of Luke and Arica rehearsing this week’s dance, there was interview footage of Luke—back in his uniform again—answering the question. Wide shots showed Arica sitting at his side, listening intently. 

"The most memorable year of my life was the year I turned nineteen. In the space of a week, my whole life changed. I learned about the Jedi, left Tatooine, joined the Rebellion, destroyed the Death Star… and met a smuggler and a princess, who turned out to be the most important people in my life."

The spotlight swung around to where Han and Leia were sitting, and Han tried to remember what Leia had said about keeping a neutral expression. 

Overhead on the projection, Luke gave a small, pensive smile. "But it wasn't all good… I lost my aunt and uncle, my friend Biggs, my mentor Ben Kenobi…” As the camera switched to a wider view of both Luke and Arica, Han saw that she was resting her hand on his. Leia shifted next to him—she’d seen it too. “In so many ways, my life changed for the better but it wasn’t easy."

Next came the interview with Han and Leia. Han recognized the shots they’d taken (filmed after the interview) of Han and Leia opening the door and letting the producer and crew in. As soon as they started talking, Han tensed. Something was off. Words were coming out in the wrong order, expressions swapped around.

As the segment went on, Leia put her hand on Han’s arm, squeezing tightly. They didn’t look at each other.

“Everyone knows about the roles you each played in the Galactic Civil War, but how did you meet?”

“Luke and his mentor hired my ship to get them off Tatooine. Coupla crazy idealists, both of them. Jedi, what are you going to do?” Onscreen, Han shrugged.

“You were captured by the Empire, weren’t you?”

Han nodded. “Got caught by the first Death Star.”

“Which is where I was,” Leia said. “They rescued me.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“It was romantic.” Leia smiled at Han.

Cut to a shot of Han, with a dopily sappy look on his face. What the _hell_. Leia’s hand on his arm was the only thing keeping Han from standing up and complaining. That wasn’t what Leia said. 

“Let’s jump ahead a few years,” the producer said. “How did you feel when Luke came back to the Alliance as a Jedi knight?”

“I laughed,” Han said. Leia glared at him and he laughed. “What? I did!”

“We’ve since learned that the Jedi had some pretty strict rules about a lot of things,” the producer said. “Not marrying, staying unattached.”

Onscreen, Han grinned. “Luke’s never been very good at following the rules.”

The audience hooted with delight and Han felt his face getting hot. The insinuation was clear, despite everything he and Leia had done to present a durasteel wall to the interviewer.

The interview segment ended, and Han sat in his seat grinding his teeth together. How could they do that? 

Onscreen, Luke and Arica were talking about their dance. “Normally,” Arica said, facing Luke on the rehearsal floor, “we’d do something that reflects your most memorable year, but I want to do something different. I want to show the judges a different side of you. We all know you’re a hero, but who else are you?”

“I’m… just me,” Luke said, and Han bit back a smile in spite of everything.

“Well. We’ll see what we can learn about you.” Oh, this was bad. Arica was definitely flirting with Luke and Han could tell the kid had no idea. 

The rehearsals didn’t give away much about the dance, but Han was getting that old familiar tickle at the back of his head, a sense of unease.

“Dancing the paso doble, Luke Skywalker and his partner, Arica Pradeux.”

Everything was dark except for a dark red spotlight over the fog swirling over the stage. Han couldn’t see where either dancer was but—wait. Was that Luke on the ground, in the fog?

The music started, with a thumping, pulsing beat and oh _damn_ , any chance of Han sitting through this stone-faced was blown to hell. Luke rose up out of the fog wearing all black— _barely_ , how the hell did they talk Luke into wearing just a _vest_ instead of a shirt—and the audience started screaming.

This was a million times worse than sitting in the bar and listening to people talking.

And then the dance started in earnest. Luke and Arica stalked each other around the stage in shades of red and black, circling in a way that Han could only describe as ‘predatory’. Gone was the bright, innocent smile of last week. Han didn’t dare so much as twitch in Leia’s direction, because he knew damn well what that look on Luke’s face was, and so did she—and it wasn’t a look for public consumption, damn it.

By the time Luke did a backflip off the judge’s table, flying over Arica’s head, the audience was howling like a pack of bloodwolves. The dance—equal parts fight and seduction, to Han’s eyes—ended with Luke as the winner, standing over Arica where she sprawled artfully on the floor.

The audience roared as a single-minded organism, surging to its feet. 

Han shifted in his seat, praying the camera would stay away for a few minutes, because he didn’t know what his face was doing right now, but he sure as hell knew what his body was doing. A quick glance at Leia revealed a similar conflict going on for her. They stood with the crowd, and Han took advantage of the noise to lean over.

“Leia—”

“Don’t say it. This was a terrible idea. I know.” Leia smiled brightly but Han saw the gritted teeth behind it. “I’m gonna kill the producers.”

“Not if I get to them first.”

#

Luke had been convinced that everybody would just laugh at their routine, because _honestly_ , it was a little ridiculous. They hadn’t shown the long argument he and Arica had had about it. 

“Not if we sell it right,” she’d said. “We have to be convincing.”

And she’d been right. The two of them together had had power over the audience; he could feel it. It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Power wasn’t usually something he chased after, but this feeling could get addictive.

When they’d finished and he pulled her to her feet, she smiled for the cameras and gave him an enthusiastic hug, during which she whispered, “Listen to that. That’s all for you.”

Flustered and a little overwhelmed, he’d smiled and led her over to the judges.

At Kelfer Jhcor’s prompting, Bredan led them off, flinging himself dramatically across the judges’ table. “Luke, you were magnificent, darling! I could just see you, chasing after your prey—and what prey!” Bredan growled and Luke managed to keep a straight face, mainly because he couldn’t see Han rolling his eyes. “Who can blame you for trying to catch her? You sold that character like you owed the money to a Hutt—but still, watch your extension—you’re thinking about it less but the dance really came alive when you stopped thinking.”

“Alin?”

The Mon Calamari judge looked at his notes, frowning. “I’m going to agree with Bredan on one thing only—the dance was the best when you stopped thinking. But there were a lot of tricks and nonsense, mucking up the steps. You don’t need them, Arica, Luke has the ability to be a really good dancer. Watch your timing—you were rushing the beat in a few moments, but otherwise, well done.”

Luke was starting to see a frustrating similarity between dancing and being a Jedi: both required that he turn off his thoughts, apparently. And the timing! _Damn_. Arica had warned him about that.

“Viviken?”

She was fanning herself with one of her judges’ paddles. “Mother of Moons, I think I’m going supernova over here! Luke, you’ve been hiding a very sexy secret from all of us!”

Luke’s face flared hot and he wanted to crawl under the floor. He could hear Han and Leia laughing already, and _blast it_ , he just remembered Wedge’s affection for bad holovid shows—he was almost definitely watching. Oh he was never going to hear the end of this.

Viviken wasn’t finished. “I love how you just committed to the character—there were moments when I really could see you getting into it. You need to do more of that. But I loved it!”

Jhcor ushered them up towards the skybox as the show was fast approaching its end. After chit-chatting with Wendella—who was looking at him the same way Viviken had—the judges gave their marks—across the board 9s. 

Luke was shocked as the audience roared its approval. Still, he could catch a faint touch from Shijou, who was not happy.

When the show ended and they were off the air, the other cast members surrounded he and Arica to congratulate them. Most of them were sincere, but he was right—Jorlonn Shijou wore a thinly stretched smile over his narrow face. “Very showy,” he said. “But then, I seem to remember that the Jedi specialized in flash.” 

Luke put on his friendliest smile. “I’m just doing what Arica tells me. She’s the boss here. You were great, I thought. I don’t think you deserved to be in the bottom two.” Leia would be proud of him. Then Arica pulled him away to talk to someone else. He eventually wriggled out of a hug from her and started looking down onto the soundstage for Han and Leia. “Be right back,” he said. His hands were still just on the edge of shaking with the adrenaline rush. 

_There_ they were. Luke waved over the crowd trying to press close to him, smiling vaguely at people talking to him as he squeezed his way over to Han and Leia. He hugged them both, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I can’t believe I did it again!”

Leia kissed him on the cheek. “You were great. I knew you’d be good at this.”

“What’s wrong?” Luke looked between the two of them. It was tempting to take a look at their thoughts, but they’d already had that talk, years ago. They weren’t entirely happy, though. 

“It’s nothing, kid.” Han smiled, but glanced around at the crowd. “We can worry about it later. You _were_ great. Bet they weren’t expecting that.”

Luke laughed. “ _I_ wasn’t expecting that. That was… fun.”

By the time they got home, Luke had forgotten all about what might have been wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The, ahem, inspiration for Luke and Arica's dance this week is here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N32KCA6ALek) Don't blame roane or culturevulture if you fall into a rabbit hole of watching Derek Hough videos and pretending he's Luke.


	3. Holovid Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 3's gifset is here.](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/147718389903/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and)

“No, absolutely not.” Luke stood in the rehearsal hall, his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh come on, Luke. It will be so much fun and the audience will absolutely eat it up!” Arica put both hands on his forearms, tugging at them until he let go so she could catch his hands in hers. 

“I am not dancing with a lightsaber. Someone could get hurt.” Most likely it would be Arica, but he couldn’t rule out himself, either.

“It doesn’t have to be a real one, of course.” She pulled him across the floor to where her notes were. “It’s holovid week, and I mean—you’re a character in several, how could we not use that? It’s too perfect!”

Luke groaned, but let her pull him over. She was a little too good at getting him to go along with questionable ideas. Not unlike Han, come to think of it. “I can’t play _myself_. That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s inspired. Trust me.” She flipped through her notes as he sat on the floor beside her. She’d been right—he was barely conscious of the cameras filming their rehearsals now. Every now and then movement out of the corner of his eye would remind him. 

“Look,” Arica was saying. “We can borrow a few of the other dancers for the start. You can come to my rescue like you did the princess! Then we’ll dance together for several bars, because seriously, how romantic is _that_.”

“There was nothing romantic about—”

“Hang on, I’m not done.” Arica gave him another Han Solo-style grin. “Just as the audience thinks we’re about to kiss—oh no! It turns out it was all a trap, and I’m actually your enemy in disguise, and then we fight.”

“I thought this was supposed to be about _my_ life story.”

“We’re embellishing it a little. Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s my only chance to learn how to use a lightsaber.” 

“Arica, I can’t teach you how to use a lightsaber in a week,” Luke said, ignoring the fact that Ben Kenobi had only taught him for a few hours. 

“Not a real one, of course. Please?” She had wide green eyes and Luke already knew from experience that she was good at using them to get her way. 

He sighed. “All right. Let’s try it.”

Before she could finalize any choreography, Arica wanted to learn some basics about fighting. With practice “sabers” in hand, they started work.

After ten minutes, Luke stopped and stood up straight. “You’ve done this before.”

Arica lowered her practice weapon. “I haven’t.” That was a lie. He felt it.

Luke just waited, looking at her. It was a trick he’d learned from Leia, to let the silence spin out until the other person felt compelled to break it.

“I promise, I’ve never touched a lightsaber before,” she said. And that wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was true. As they swung back into the rehearsal, Luke watched her more closely, looking at the moves she wanted to choreograph, the set of her shoulders, the bend of her knees, trying to figure out where and what she might have studied.

He didn’t come up with an answer, but she had definitely trained with someone before. He just didn’t know who. Or why she was so reluctant to talk about it.

#

And just when he thought things couldn’t get any weirder, the producers told Luke they had another request of him. 

“This is a little unusual,” the Twi’lek woman said. “I think this is the first time for holovid week that we’ve had competitors end up playing the same character, just from different holovids.”

“Oh don’t tell me.” Luke fought the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“Coby Stanrho and his partner are using _The Last Jedi_ as their inspiration. He wanted to know if he could talk to you ahead of time, maybe learn something for his portrayal.” Coby was just a kid, younger than Luke had been when he’d left Tatooine, but already a well-known holovid star, to judge by the audience’s reaction to him.

There were, as far as Luke knew, at least four holovids that included him as a character, and one long-running series, all with varying degrees of accuracy. _The Last Jedi_ was, by far, the worst of the lot. He’d long since given up trying to make sense of it. 

“Sure.” Luke smiled. “I’d be happy to talk to him.” This was going to be hell.

The producers arranged for them to meet on the show’s main stage for some reason, and Coby bounded in like a baby Ewok, all fluffy blond hair and bright eyes. 

“Thank you _so_ much for agreeing to talk to me, Master Skywalker,” he said, grabbing Luke’s hand and shaking it hard. “I mean, I know I’m basically asking you to help me beat you this week, but…” he laughed.

“Please. Call me Luke. And I don’t think you need my help to win.” 

“Well, my partner wants to do that scene, you know, where you fought and killed a krayt dragon when you were just fifteen. I wanna hear all about how you did it!”

Luke shook his head, unable to hide the laugh. “I hate to tell you, but that never happened.”

Coby’s face fell. “It didn’t?” He looked so disappointed that Luke felt sorry for him.

“No, what actually happened was that I found an orphaned baby krayt dragon. I think its mother had been killed by scavengers.” That was a lifetime ago, but Luke still remembered the little guy. He’d felt sorry for him too.

“What happened?”

“Well, I took it home, and hid it from my aunt and uncle for a couple of days before my Uncle Owen caught me and made me let it go. I begged him to keep it. But he was right; another month or two and it would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh. That’s not at all what the holovid showed.” Poor kid. Luke felt like he’d just shattered his whole worldview. How had Coby managed to get this famous and stay that naive? Then Luke thought of himself at nineteen and had to hide a smile—he’d just answered his own question.

“Sorry.”

“Well, I still think we’re going to end up doing a fight sequence, so can you show me?” The clouds passed quickly and Coby was all sunny smiles again. “If you ever had to fight a krayt dragon, how would you do it?”

And that was how Luke wound up teaching not one, but two dancers how to fight. He kept telling himself it was good practice for any future students he might find. 

Coby turned out to be an amazing mimic, and a fast learner. There was also something else—Luke couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, not without looking deeper, but he thought he saw a glimmer of potential in the kid. Whether he knew it or not—and Luke bet not—Coby had at least a little bit of affinity for the Force. He debated whether or not to tell him.

#

Luke fell face first into the bed with a groan. The shower and painkillers had done a little but he still hurt. Bone-deep exhaustion, all his muscles protesting being moved in unfamiliar directions. Dancing had some things in common with sword work, but he’d never had to worry about carrying his extension through his fingers—they were usually gripping his saber hilt. Who knew that combining the two would be a thousand times worse?

“What happened?”

Han’s voice was at threat level one, a deep rumbly growl that Luke hadn’t heard since the war had drifted to truce. He turned his head and opened one eye. 

“Just tired.” Leia was at Han’s shoulder; Luke felt her warmth through the Force. This was what they had fought for, to be able to sink into this soft bed, safe, with the two people he loved about to join him. Even if he was sure he would be asleep in about thirty-five more seconds.

Leia’s intake of breath was audible. He tried to sharpen his gaze when she moved to him. “Just tired?”

“You’ve got black and blue marks all over your back,” Han added.

 _Damn. I’d forgotten about that._ Luke sighed. “Arica was drilling me today and I took a couple of bad steps in those stupid dance shoes. I fell over one of the camera people, who was way too close. I’m okay, really.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. He _had_ fallen, but he was also pretty sure the bruises were from two impromptu sparring sessions with Arica and Coby. But if he told them about that, it would ruin the surprise. He felt the bed dip as they sat on either side of him. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

Leia leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. “So you don’t want a massage to take it all away?”

“I didn’t say that.” He purred as four hands started working on the knots in his shoulders. He routinely turned down the show’s offer of a masseuse, because usually, they only made everything hurt worse. But this, this was perfect. 

“Okay, why are my palms brown?” Han asked after a few minutes.

“Huh?” It took Luke a moment to process what Han was saying. “Oh. Spray tan is wearing off. Bed’s probably turning brown. It started wearing off in the shower.”

“Spray tan?” Leia asked.

“Don’t ask. The makeup people wanted to run some tests today. Also, don’t ask about the glitter.”

“So that’s what’s on the shower floor.” Leia scruffed his hair. 

“Hey!” Luke ducked away from her hand. “I’m sorry. It’s only a few more weeks.”

“If you keep winning,” Han pointed out.

“You have that little faith in me?”

“No, I think the younger, fluffier blond is giving you a run for your money in the popular vote ‘s all.”

“Coby’s a good kid. I guess he’s playing me for holovid week.” Luke stifled a yawn, feeling the tension slowly draining away under Han and Leia’s touch. He didn’t tell them that he was playing himself—it still felt too ridiculous. 

“Which one? Isn’t he a little young?”

“ _The Last Jedi_ ,” Luke said, and Leia groaned.

“That one’s _awful_ ,” she said.

Han grinned. “Isn’t that the one where they had you killing krayt dragons? Pod racing?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have the heart to tell them at the time that Anakin was the pod racer. And that no Skywalker ever killed a krayt dragon. I nursed one back to health, though.”

Han laughed. “Those ugly ass things? Really? Why?”

Luke rolled over onto his back, and winced. Now he felt the bruises. “You’ve seen one?”

“Well, I’ve seen ‘em stuffed. The port master in Mos Eisley has one in her office.”

Luke laughed. “If it’s in an office, that’s the baby.”

Han stared at him. “That thing was Chewie’s size. How big is the adult?”

“You’ve seen a bantha? They eat them.”

Leia looked at both of them, a slightly jealous expression on her face. Luke reached for her hand. He forgot, sometimes, that Han knew enough of Tatooine to understand Luke’s childhood stories, and Leia didn’t always. 

“We should go there again sometime,” Luke said to her. “I never really did get to show you where I grew up. And our grandmother is buried there.”

“Yes, with all the free time we have, we should go.” Leia leaned down and kissed his forehead. “But for now, you need to go to sleep.” 

Luke tugged her hand, and reached for Han’s as well. “Stay?” he asked, and his eyes were already drifting closed.

#

But Leia couldn’t sleep. Once Han and Luke had drifted off, she slipped from their bed and went back to the living room. 

She couldn’t decide if this entire thing had been a mistake or not. The producers had apologized for the editing games of the previous week, and tried to smooth things over. And she had to admit, she enjoyed the dress rehearsals, maybe more than the shows themselves. It was nice to talk to the other families, the ones caught in the same weird bubble. She was no stranger to celebrity, of course, but this was entirely different from being a princess or a senator. Both of those positions engendered a bit of respect, a bit of distance. Here, it felt like everyone was dying to pry as much as possible. The number of interview requests from outside media sources had tripled in the weeks since Luke’s first appearance.

On the one hand, that was great. It was what they’d wanted, to raise the Senate’s overall visibility and reputation. But on the other hand, nobody wanted to talk politics. Everybody was trying like hell to figure out what the sleeping arrangements were in the Skywalker-Organa-Solo household. 

The other families though, they weren’t like that. They got it. The Stanrhos were good people, and Devonoa Colslo had the sort of dry, wicked sense of humor that reminded Leia of one of her aunts. 

Leia pulled up the recording of the previous performance, and again had her breath stolen watching Luke slink around the stage like a hunting cat. Han’s jealousy was amusing at first—like he thought that somehow that people didn’t already realize that Luke was beautiful. Leia’s reaction was quite different. Where Han’s possessiveness was threatened by Luke being on display, Leia had to resist showing too much pride. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t really stand up and announce, “Yes, he’s mine. They’re both mine.” 

There was just one thing making her uneasy. 

Leia watched where Luke and Arica stood up in the skybox, waiting for their time to perform. Luke said something and Arica laughed, squeezing his arm as she looked up at him. Her attraction was palpable, and Leia wasn’t entirely sure it was unrequited. 

For the first time, Leia wondered if maybe she was asking too much, being too greedy, trying to keep both of them to herself. 

Not for the first time, Leia accidentally woke Luke. He always had a sense when she was troubled, even when he was asleep. He wandered into the darkened living room half-awake, scratching at his chest with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. “Leia?”

“Damn. I’m sorry. It’s fine, go back to bed.” She reached for the button to turn off the holovid, but she was too late.

“Ugh, why are you watching that?” Of course he didn’t listen to her, but flopped beside her, leaning his head drowsily on her shoulder. 

“What, I can’t admire you again?”

“You can admire me, I’m right here.”

“And half-asleep,” Leia teased. “Go back to bed.”

“No, something’s bothering you. What is it?” He lifted his head and looked her in the eye, and with it came the faint brush of his mind against hers, not probing, just a gentle question.

“If you ever… weren’t happy. You’d tell us, wouldn’t you?” 

“Of course I would, what kind of question is that?” Luke took her hand. “I know I’ve been distracted lately, with the show.” He laughed a little. “I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, to be honest.”

Leia smiled, but his words weren’t the most reassuring.

Luke stifled a yawn. “It’ll be over soon, and then everything will go back to normal, I promise.” He stood up, and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. Come back to bed before Han wakes up and sees we’re gone.”

#

And that was when everything went to hell on Riosa. The Inner Rim planet had been staunchly for the New Republic from the start—it was one of the planets that had suffered the worst under the Empire, and when the chance came to throw off their chains, the Riosans took it, with a vengeance.

When word came in that a Imperial splinter group had bombed the capital and was holding almost the whole city hostage, it was a shock. 

Luke watched, his hands tightened into fists, as Leia and Han rushed around the bedroom throwing things into their bags. “You shouldn’t be going alone.”

“We’re not going to be alone, Luke,” Leia said, with the patience of someone who’s already made this point too many times. “We’ll have a whole squadron with us. But we have to go. The Riosans have already lost too much.”

“I should go with you.”

Han came around the bed and put his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Look, kid. I know. You’re a fighter. But we had Leia’s staff go over your contract with the show and they’re not going to let you go for anything less than the second coming of the Emperor.”

Luke lifted his chin and looked Han in the eye. “I could just go anyway.”

“Don’t even joke.” Leia closed up her bag. “We’re trying to keep this whole thing as quiet as possible.”

“I wasn’t joking.” Suddenly the absurdity of what he was doing hit him hard. What was he thinking, spending so much time on a ridiculous show, when he should be training—and now should be fighting. Luke made up his mind. He pulled away from Han. “To hell with the show. I’m coming with you.”

Leia caught his arm. “Luke, no, you can’t.”

“Watch me.” A trace of his old impulsiveness flared, but beneath it, a sense of unease he couldn’t put his finger on. A certainty that wherever he needed to be, it wasn’t here.

“Stop being so stubborn and listen to me.” Leia shook him a little, her patience dissolving. “If you up and vanish, everyone’s going to start paying attention to it. And the last thing we need is for the the Imperials on Riosa to start getting holonet time.”

“But—”

“You’re going to be more help if you stay here and keep the attention focused on you, not on where we are.”

“You need me,” Luke protested. “Who’s going to watch your backs?” This was wrong, something was wrong, and the fear blossoming in his gut was undeniable.

“We both managed to survive long before you came along,” Leia snapped. “The Pathfinders are some of the best we’ve got. We’ll be fine without you.”

“Do you really expect me to just go out there tonight and smile and dance and act like everything’s fine while the two people I love are in danger?” 

“ _Yes_.” Leia pulled away from him and picked up her bag. “That is exactly what I expect you to do.” She glared at him. “Do you know how many times I’ve done just that? Do you know how many speeches and meetings and presentations I sat through with a smile on my face while you two were off Force knew where and I had to act like I wasn’t dying inside? I did it because it was my duty—and because people’s lives— _your_ lives—depended on how well I could pretend things were normal. Now it’s your turn. You get to be the one to stay home and worry for once.” She turned to Han. “We have to go. The transport will be waiting for us.”

She walked out before Luke could say anything else. Han gave him an apologetic look and pulled him into a hug. “I’ll talk to her. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Luke couldn’t tell if it was the Force or just normal, garden-variety anxiety, but the feeling of _wrong_ was unmistakable.

“We’ll be fine,” Han repeated. “I’ll take care of her. Always do, don’t I? You just go out there and win tonight. We’ll try to watch.” He leaned down and kissed Luke. “We’ll be in touch when we can. The Republic’s blocking comm signals on Riosa to keep the terrorists from contacting anyone off world.”

It was standard procedure, but that didn’t mean Luke had to like it. He nodded. And the distance was much too far for the Force to be a reliable method of communication. 

“Han, let’s go!” Leia called.

Han kissed him again and followed Leia out of the apartment. There was nothing for Luke to do except get ready for dress rehearsal, and try not to focus on the fear sitting at the core of him.

#

In terms of methods of interstellar travel, packed in a troop transport was never going to be one of Leia’s favorite ways to go. It was a little easier this time, given that the men and women around her were practically all old friends, fighters who’d been with the Alliance almost since before there _was_ a formal Alliance. 

She felt awful about the way she’d left things with Luke. They were trying to juggle too many priorities, all three of them, and they all had to do things they didn’t want to do. Still, she shouldn’t have lost her temper. And now, the transport was running late, so she and Han weren’t even going to be able to catch the airing of _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ —or so she thought. One of the squad lieutenants offered up her portable holoviewer. “We’re all keeping up with how Luke’s doing,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. 

So despite some ribbing from some of the guys, they managed to tune in. Han initially tried to feign disinterest in front of the others, but he eventually came over and sat beside Leia and they watched the small projection. 

Devonoa’s trainer had gotten the bright idea to cast her in the style of an Old Republic era musical holovid, all historical glamour and shimmering costumes. It suited Devonoa about as well as it would’ve suited Han. 

He muttered. “She’d be doing great if they stopped trying to turn her into a girly-girl. That’s not who she is.”

The judges thought so too. It looked like she was headed for the bottom two again.

Then came Coby’s number. His rehearsal segment made Leia smile.

“Coby, what was your favorite holovid growing up?” his partner asked.

The kid grinned. “ _The Last Jedi_. Wasn’t everybody’s?” 

But then Luke turned up in Coby’s rehearsal segment, the two of them side by side swinging practice swords while Luke explained what they were doing. The hero worship on Coby’s face was blatant and very sweet. 

He didn’t, however, pull any of his sword strikes, either.

“I think I see how Luke got those bruises,” Leia murmured to Han. 

“The little sneak didn’t want to tell us.”

Coby’s routine was cute. There was really no other word for it. He threw himself into it, whirling around the stage like he was going to take on the world—that was _very_ Luke, Leia had to admit. The similarity in body language was eerie. And the costume—

“I swear if we hadn’t burned that white tunic I’d think that was the exact same one,” Han said, voicing her thoughts.

“They certainly paid attention to detail.”

Finally it was Luke’s turn.

“Are they—” Han stopped, watching Luke with a practice saber in his hand for a second time. “They didn’t.”

They did.

The troops around them who could see the holoprojection were all chuckling, and despite everything, Leia couldn’t help but laugh with them. “I think they’ve gotten about as absurd as it’s possible to get.”

“Two Luke Skywalkers in one show!” the holoprojector’s owner laughed. “Think how fast we could’ve beaten the Empire with two of them.”

Leia elbowed Han before he could give voice to whatever he was thinking, because whatever he was thinking was guaranteed to be off-color. 

Luke… well, he tried. As far as Leia could tell from the rehearsal footage, the dancing wasn’t bad, but it was obvious that he was a little embarrassed by the whole thing. The only time he looked at ease was when Arica started teasing him about his rehearsals with Coby. 

“Come on, you’re not so tough. I bet I could take you in a fight.” She came toward him throwing mock punches while he laughed.

“Oh, I don’t have to fight you,” he retorted, and bodily picked her up and spun her while she laughed and yelped.

“All right, all right, you win!” 

When the lights came up for their performance though, Leia was the one who got embarrassed. “ _How did they find out about that_ ,” she hissed at Han. Arica was wearing an unmistakably familiar dancing girl costume, and as far as Leia knew, only a handful of people knew about her encounter with it. 

“Maybe it’s not supposed to be you,” Han murmured, putting his arm around her. “See, she’s blond—why is she blond this week?”

Han could be right. Whatever they were acting out, it bore no resemblance to any story from Luke’s life that Leia knew of. They circled the floor in an unmistakable imitation of a budding romance, then Arica produced a lightsaber of her own and the studio audience gasped. _Then_ Luke came into his own, on more familiar ground as they spun together, “weapons” clashing to dramatic music. 

The dance ended with their blades locked together, face to face as they glared at each other. Luke broke into a sheepish smile and shrugged at Arica as the audience yelled and clapped.

She said something to him, then curled her free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It wasn’t sloppy or overlong, but there was a possessiveness to it that made even Leia’s back stiffen. Han’s face was blank as he watched, color creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. Leia suspected that if they were alone, he’d be yelling. 

Their fellow troops, however, were hooting and cheering almost as loud as the audience. Leia was usually able to read Luke’s body language and facial expressions as plain as day, even when he was trying to hide them, but watching him on the holoprojector as they went to talk to the judges, Leia couldn’t read a thing. Was it just a stunt? Had he known Arica was going to kiss him? Was this—surely not—was this a way to get back at Leia for earlier? What the hell was going on?

#

“Okay, you two, come on over,” Jhcor admonished. “So that’s what you did for the Rebellion? The kissing, the lightsabers?”

“Well, the lightsabers,” Luke caught his breath. “With a lot fewer sequins,” he added. Han would be proud of that comeback and then he remembered where they were. Hoped they were all right. Hoped, for just a moment, that they weren’t watching.

Thankfully, the crowd was screeching too loudly for Alin to begin. The judge waited, then boomed over it. “Well, it was a bit overdone again, wasn’t it?” The boos began. “What steps there were seemed well done, but mind your timing. You’re getting better but you still tend to rush a bit at the end.”

“Bredan?”

“You naughty boy—” Bredan half rose out of his seat. “But who could blame you?” He leered at Arica, and Luke managed not to roll his eyes with effort. He caught Kelfer Jhcor’s smirk and tried to look neutral and failed. “Still, the swordfighting was amazing—but I don’t know what it was doing there—” The boos again as for once, Bredan agreed with Allin. “Steps, my darling, where are the steps? And where is your timing?”

Viviken was as unenthused as the others. “You know I love you, but you need to open up to us. You were very closed off and nervous. You came alive for the fighting. And for the kiss. But we know you can fight. We want to see you dance.”

Back to 8s as they trudged up the stairs. 

“We’re missing your cheering section tonight,” Wendella prompted. 

“Senate business for Leia and Han had Alliance duties,” Luke trotted out as few details as he could. 

“I wonder what they would have made of that kiss?”

Luke managed to keep the grin on his face as he nearly screamed internally. Where the hell was this going? “I’m still trying to figure out what I made of it.” He glanced at Arica, keeping the smile on his face, only to see her beaming back at him.

“Do we sense romance in the air here?” Wendella grinned archly, her lekku twitching with amusement. 

Before Luke could answer, Arica tightened her grip on his arm and said, “We’ll be sure you’re one of the first to know, if anything develops.”

Luke managed a tight smile. Leia would be proud of him for that at least. Inside, his tight control over his worry for them, and now this was almost shredded to pieces.


	4. Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the gifset for this chapter.](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/148310340558/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and)

Luke entered the dark apartment, tired enough, he hoped. Show night usually left him exhausted but hyper, and he counted on being with Han and Leia to help him settle. Usually, as they did after a battle, they worked off the adrenaline together. But tonight, he was alone.

It was odd to rattle around their apartment by himself at night. During the day, when he was home alone, he enjoyed it. But at night, he was almost never alone. Not since the night on _Home One_ , before they flew the captured Imperial shuttle to Endor, when they reconnected. He and Han had snuck a tray of food out of the mess, met Leia in her cramped quarters. Wolfed down the meal, then when it seemed the time to separate, Han had said softly, “I’ve been alone for six months.” 

The horror of it—of Han, trapped in the in-between state of waking and sleep, no idea if Leia and Luke were alive, if they were coming for him—resonated between the three of them. Even as keyed up as they had been, they simply slept, wrapped around each other. Luke had felt at peace for the first time since he had the vision of Han and Leia at Cloud City. The memory had carried him through the days that followed.

Tonight, in the Coruscant night that looked like day, the thread of worry was haunting him. Han and Leia were probably still in transit, they were surrounded by the crack Pathfinders, and they would be fine. 

And he could tell himself that over and over, but it wouldn’t register. He needed to be there. He shook himself clear. Shower first, clear his head, and then he could meditate.

The real water shower was one of the features they had all agreed was a selling point of the apartment. Big enough for the three of them, even if the one time they had tried it so far, they’d been laughing too hard to figure out the best way to try things without falling on the slippery tile or tying themselves into knots. He let the water run, trying to stretch out the muscles bruised from dancing, sword play, and holding himself in check, to not say the wrong thing, not show his fear for Han and Leia.

Swathed in his robe and long pajama pants, Luke moved to his meditation space. The three of them shared one extra bedroom as an office, another as a work space that had parts for ships, blasters and sabers strewn across a work table. The study was a small sitting space they’d had walled off for Luke to use for meditation away from Han and Leia. He dropped into his usual cross-legged sitting meditation, started his cleansing breaths and dropped his shields, opening himself to the Force. 

He couldn’t reach Leia at this distance, but he could still sense if they were all right. Sunk deep, he found them at last, familiar lights in the firmament. Safe for the moment. He could sleep now.

Except he couldn’t. The bed, bought for all three of them to fit, was enormous without Leia and Han—Leia staring at the news and making snide remarks about her fellow politicians, Han grumbling for her to turn off the holoviewer already and get over here. Luke stretched across the bed, trying to relax, but he only felt less at ease. He stared at Leia’s preferred news channel, actually the only one that didn’t make her shout angrily the whole way through an hour, but there was no news of Riosa. So he made a survey of the other channels.

He found the entertainment channels quickly enough, landing on a recap of _Dancing_. He laughed at the recappers breathlessly deciding that Shijou was jealous of Coby, which Luke had to admit he agreed with, and their declaration that Devonoa was going to snag Jhcor. Which was so wrong, Luke didn’t stop laughing for five minutes. He watched his and Arica’s dance again, his own worst critic. The judges were right; his heart hadn’t been in it, and he still hadn’t learned how to consistently keep the beat. The rhythm of a fight was constantly shifting, never a constant thing—that was how he’d learned to move. It wasn’t doing him any favors now. He was so caught up in critiquing himself, he almost missed the recappers’ last comments:

“With all that chemistry, I just _knew_ there had to be something going on between them,” declared a wide-eyed, breathless woman. “That kiss—that was probably the hottest move we saw on the dance floor all night!”

Her Rodian co-host was skeptical. “It looked a little too practiced to me,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve _practiced_ ,” the woman tittered.

Luke changed the channel, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Until he heard from Han and Leia, he could only hope they weren’t seeing any of this. He finally put on an old holoserial that had been a hit long before he’d left Tatooine, about a family with eight kids, and decided to let it lull him to sleep. It eventually worked.

#

_Cold._

_Colder than that lost night on Hoth, out in the storm, because that night, he had been in Han’s arms, the smuggler praying to gods Luke had never heard of that they would live._

_But this cold… it was deeper and harsher than mere ice._

_He was back in the Death Star throne room, evil beating about him like a storm. He stared at the Emperor’s dead eyes, hooded in the gloom, and summoned courage he never dreamed he would have._

_“Your overconfidence is your weakness.”_

_“Your faith in your friends is yours. Especially two of them.”_

Two?

_He clamped down on every thought against the grasp of the darkness._

_And then commotion behind him. Red guards shoving someone ahead of them._

_“Luke!”_

_The baritone and alto harmony that held him together. He tried not to turn but they were thrown between him and the Emperor. Leia’s hand gripped in Han’s, even though they were both cuffed. Her dark eyes, his hazel, dark in the dim light, looking at him, full of worry and fear._

No. Please, no.

_“If you will not join us, you will see them die.”_

_Their eyes, staring at him as he closed his own. “Spare them and I’ll—”_

_“No, Luke, you can’t—”_

_“Luke, don’t—”_

Can’t look, can’t, no, I won’t be strong enough.

_“Decide, Jedi. The time for games is over.”_

_He could hear Vader’s saber igniting, hear himself screaming—_

And he started awake, screaming to an empty room. The sheets were clammy and tangled around him. Luke was completely lost—the room unfamiliar, the bed empty… then he snapped back into the present. He drew a long, shaky breath, tried to slow his racing heart. He pulled himself into a ball, rolling into his usual spot on the bed. His heart finally slipped back into its regular rhythm as he began to warm up.

He hadn’t had that nightmare in years, although once it was so real and so common that he had to fight to remember that it _hadn’t happened that way_ , that Han and Leia were never on the second Death Star.

It made a certain amount of sense that he would have it now, he supposed. They were away and in danger, and here he was…

 _And here I am, on some ridiculous holoshow._ He remembered the words that Leia had thrown at him with such anger, about how much time she’d spent over the years doing just this—putting on a show of normalcy while he and Han were off doing something dangerous.

He’d always known Leia was stronger than he was; this was just further proof.

#

Luke got to the rehearsal studio early the next day, his mind foggy from so little sleep, but determined to find Arica and talk to her before the cameras started rolling. They could get this all straightened out. Whatever it was. He’d given her the wrong impression, maybe. Hadn’t made it clear enough that he was involved with someone. This would have been a lot easier if he didn’t find her attractive at all. He had to be honest and admit to himself that he did, but… 

There she was, talking to one of the sound crew. She spotted him and smiled. “Luke! You’re early!” Arica hugged him, and Luke found himself hyperconscious of everything he did, afraid of giving a mixed message. 

“I need to talk to you. Alone.” He eyed the hovering sound woman, giving her his coldest, sternest Jedi stare until she backed away.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Arica took his arm and guided him away from the others.

“Arica…” Luke sighed. Given who he was, he’d had to do this before, but it never got any easier. He hated this, knowing that he was about to hurt her. “I wanted to talk about last night.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have had you play yourself.” She looked up at him with wide green eyes. “It’s my fault we did so badly.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not that. Arica, you’re a beautiful woman, and I like you very much, but—”

Arica blinked, and then laughed gently. “The kiss. Of course. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Warned me…?”

“Oh Luke.” She took his hands and squeezed them. “Have you seen any of the news reports this morning?”

“I saw some last night… I wanted to get here as soon as I could.”

“Sweetheart. Everybody is talking about us.” She smiled up at him. “Votes are going to be into the stratosphere.”

Her meaning slowly dawned on him, with a sense of frustration and irritation. “You kissed me to get _votes_?”

“Of course. I saw the judges’ faces while we were performing.” Arica kept smiling at him and he realized that the cameras were watching them from a distance. “I wanted to hedge our bets. You want to win, don’t you?”

“But I thought—”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Her smile edged toward an impish grin. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed every second of it, but I get the feeling there are some things in your personal life that mean you’re not interested.”

Luke opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she teased. “But if things ever change…”

“Um—”

Arica laughed at him, the sound verging suspiciously on a giggle. “I’m playing with you. Seriously. You don’t have to do anything else. The gossips will do the rest. It’s all over the holonet.”

 _Oh no._ Luke had to find some way to contact Han and Leia. Even if they’d missed the show, they were sure to hear something. The last thing they needed in the middle of a battle was this.

“Come on.” Arica pulled him by the hand. “We need to get to work. This week you’ll be picking our music, so start thinking about what song you’d like to dance to.”

#

“We’ve got walkers in the southwest sector,” came Leia’s voice over the comms. 

“Where the hell are they still getting all this equipment?” Han groused. He and a handful of troops were holed up _in_ the southwest sector of the Riosan capital after taking out some of the Imperial terrorists.

“I don’t know, but you better believe that’s what I’m going to look into when we get home.” Leia sounded furious. 

Every time Han thought the nightmare of combat was behind him, something new happened. The Empire just refused to lie down and die. None of them seemed to get that there was no Empire anymore, just pockets of terrorists who called themselves the Empire. 

They’d been planetside for just over two days, and progress was slow. Neither Han nor Leia were talking about Luke or what had happened. They’d tried, the first night. Han had gotten so agitated he’d had to walk around the makeshift camp. Not knowing, not having any idea what was going on with Luke, it was driving them both crazy. So they agreed to stop talking about it.

That didn’t mean Han had stopped thinking about it. Some people might think it odd that he was so bothered, if they knew he had no qualms about seeing Luke kiss Leia—quite the opposite, in fact. But seeing Arica kiss Luke made his gut burn. Leia was trying to be calm and reasonable. Surely there was a simple explanation. That it was all just for show. And deep down, Han knew Leia was probably right, but the mental image showed up every time Han closed his eyes: Luke with another woman—someone who wasn’t _theirs_ —in his arms. 

“General Solo, we’ve got reports that the walkers are down.”

Han snapped out of his reverie. Thinking too much about the situation at home right now was likely to get him killed. “All right. Let’s try to break cover and get back to the others.”

#

For every city section the Republic took back, the Imperials seemed to retreat to yet another. The two armies were burning a path through the Riosan capital and there was nothing Leia could do to stop it. 

She and Han weren’t at their best, and she suspected the other Republic soldiers knew it. Some of them might even suspect why. After the last show had aired, Leia had seen a few people giving them sympathetic looks, while the rest were hooting and gossiping about Luke.

The first night, she was half-afraid Han was going to commandeer the troop transport and fly back to Coruscant, with her or without her. It was so unlike him, and when she asked, he couldn’t explain why he was so worried. At first she thought it was just jealousy that had gotten out of control, but now she wasn’t so sure. Or maybe his unease was rubbing off on her. 

Either way, Leia had a bad feeling about things. It wasn’t like her to feel this pulled in two. She’d always done her duty, and was doing it now, here on Riosa, but still… the sooner they could get home the better she’d feel.

#

Four days after Han and Leia had left, and Luke was still a mess. Not sleeping, not concentrating well. He got the studio extra early that morning, still half asleep and trying to puzzle out how best to deal with what Arica was planning. He couldn’t argue with the effectiveness of her plan so far—everyone was talking about them and that seemed to bode well for the voting but… it bothered him. Not just because it was dishonest—because he was learning there was a lot of dishonesty in show business—but because he hadn’t been able to talk to Han and Leia about it, to make sure they were okay, to get their opinion.

Nothing else had happened between he and Arica, but whenever they rehearsed, Luke found himself acutely conscious of the cameras again, and what they might seem to show later. It hadn’t taken him long to learn the various tricks of clever editing the production team could come up with.

“Morning, Luke, what are you doing here? Your call’s not for another hour.” Lischelle, the floor manager, had her ever-present data pad and cup of caf. 

“Woke up early,” Luke shrugged.

As much as Luke didn’t quite trust the production crew, the live show crew were good people. They were old hands, guild members, who were used to live events and had clear memories of what working under the Empire had been like. The director was a hard-bitten Corellian who reminded Luke of Han at his gruffest, although Luke wouldn’t swear the director had Han’s hidden heart of gold. 

Luke was friendly with all of them, but the live show crew claimed him as their own. He knew all their names, asked about their families, even helped tote equipment around. He didn't miss that the live show crew and the production crew were at odds often, over who did better work.

He knew both crews were openly speculating and betting on the sleeping arrangements at his home, but he also knew the live crew weren’t gossiping about it outside of the set. 

Lischelle gave him a sympathetic smile. “Still too quiet at home?” 

“Hopefully not for much longer,” he answered.

“Go get changed,” she said. “I’ll make sure to send someone in with some breakfast. I bet you didn’t eat.”

Things hadn’t improved much when the other dancers arrived. There was a group dance this week and Luke had to pull it together. He smiled when Coby fairly bounded up to him. He finally understood what Han had said years ago about Luke himself—it was too hard to not to smile in the face of such enthusiasm.

“Mom and Dad missed your friends the other night. They really like them.”

Finally, he could say something that he didn’t have to puzzle out the impact of every word. “They really like your parents too.” Even Han, wary of people even more since they’d become minor celebrities, thought Stanrho’s parents were good people, and wondered what the hell they were doing in show business.

“When are they coming back?” Coby asked innocently. 

“I bet if he knew, he’d be telling everybody,” Devonoa interrupted, giving Luke a hidden wink. “You never know with all that political crap. You doing okay, kid?” She squeezed Luke’s shoulder and it was so like Han he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah.” Luke tried to shift the subject. “You two pick out a song yet?” 

“I have!” Of course Coby had, and Devonoa shrugged.

“You?” she asked.

Luke made a face. “No. I haven’t had much time to really think about it.”

Devonoa took a good look at him, and Luke had the uncanny feeling that he’d always gotten when Yoda studied him the same way—although there was no sense that Devonoa was doing anything mystical. She was just shrewd and knew people. In any case, he had no doubt she saw right through him.

“You don’t have a favorite song?” she asked him. “Or—I dunno—a song that means something to you? Something special? Something that might… send a message?” She really did see through him, because her eyes met his meaningfully.

Oh. _Oh._ Luke suddenly knew exactly which song he was going to choose.

#

The two teams finally met up in the city center, with the Imperial forces running toward the perimeter. Before the full set of commanders regrouped, Han managed to find Leia for a moment and ducked out of the confusion.

“I thought I looked bad,” she quipped. As always, they covered everything with snark.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Han shot back. He pulled her close—the whole squad had come to expect that if Luke, Han and Leia weren’t snarking at each other, they would be hanging all over each other. Wedge joked that it was the second lesson new recruits learned after “listen to your commander.” 

“Bad night?”

“Yeah. You too?”

She sighed. “I was on the Death Star again, you know that dream I have of waiting for you and Luke but you don’t come and they come to…”

“Yeah.” He stroked a few tendrils of wayward hair from her cheek.

“You too?” He nodded and she winced. “Carbon freeze?”

He almost smiled. “No, I think you two have almost driven that one away. I had the other one, sitting in Mos Eisley while BoShek took the job from Kenobi instead of pointing him and Luke toward me ‘n Chewie. Where I watch them walk out without ever meeting them.”

She touched his cheek. “Might’ve been an easier life.”

He finally did smile. “What? Miss all this?” She rolled her eyes and he laughed softly. “Seriously, that one is the worst. I never meet either of you? What’s my life then? Besides, I know BoShek. He’d’ve sat in that control room and let Luke go off on the worst rescue of all time by himself. Luke would’ve gotten his fool head blown off, you’d’ve been dead, and the Death Star plans would’ve gone nowhere. No matter what’s happened to me along the way, I will never regret picking up that charter and listening to some farmboy spin me a story.”

The Pathfinder with the holoviewer came over to them as they were all taking a rest break. Leia was already worried at the woman’s horrified expression. She cued something up, saying, “I think you need to see this.” 

TPZ was named for the ten parsecs around Coruscant, the Core Worlds where most of the celebrities lived and entertainment for the Republic was created, and it was one of the worst gossip shows around. The few times Leia had found it and watched in horror, she’d felt like she was back in the trash compactor. 

And now, Luke was on it. 

“Question time with Luke Skywalker!” Leia winced at the horrible animation and smarmy narration. Next to her, looking over her shoulder at the tiny viewer, Han growled. 

Luke was walking to a speeder cab outside the rehearsal space where he and Arica trained. He looked strung taut and Leia caught her breath. This was all wrong. 

“Hi, Luke, could we ask you a few questions?” The question was from one of TPZ’s ever-present camera teams which swarmed over shuttle arrivals and holovid filmings. Luke looked at them for one split second as if they were the Empire, and then summoned his prize-winning smile. 

“Sure.”

“When are General Solo and Senator Organa coming back?” 

The show switched from Luke to a shot of the bullpen of staffers and reporters, clustered in front of their computer terminals, talking to their boss, a former lawyer from Naboo. 

“Oh, Luke is so beautiful,” one of the female staffers sighed as her cohorts hooted and derided her. “He _is_ , and there wouldn’t be a Republic right now if it weren’t for him!”

“Well, and us,” Han grinned. Leia slapped his arm. “I’m not wrong!” he protested.

Leia hushed him. “I want to hear this!”

“Yeah, whatever,” the leader said. “He’s on _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ now—”

“And all over his partner, Arica,” one of the male staffers jumped in.

A picture of Arica, in the skimpiest dance costume possible, flashed on the monitor. 

“Who wouldn’t be?” one of the other staffers shouted to laughter.

One of the reporters retorted, “You’ve seen the senator and the general, right? He lives with them.”

They cut to a shot of Han and Leia at their table during the last live show they’d attended. Leia felt nauseous, suddenly. She glanced at Han and knew he was wishing he was in blaster range.

Cut back to Luke, who dipped his head in that shy way of his, the motion too revealing for Leia’s tastes—if Luke was that vulnerable in front of the public, it spoke to his state of mind. “They’re on business for the Senate and the Alliance. There’s not a strict timetable. They’ll be back soon.”

Back to the staffers. “So which one do you think he’s—”

Shouts of “the general” and “the senator” went back and forth. Then one of the women rolled her eyes. “Both of them—are you kidding me?”

Back to Luke at the speeder. The off-camera voice continued. “So what about you and Arica?”

“What about us?”

“I mean… that was quite a kiss…”

“Sure looked like it, didn’t it?”

“What did the senator think of that kiss?”

Luke stopped walking. He turned with the same chilly faint smile he’d worn for too long after Endor, the one he’d used to keep almost everyone at arms’ length. “I haven’t asked her. You should though. I’d love to see that.” He started walking again.

Back in the bullpen, there was hooting and laughing. “Oh damn. That was colder than a tauntaun’s ass. I hope you didn’t put money on it being the senator…” 

“What would the general say about your choice of song?”

Luke turned back with the look both Han and Leia had seen before. The camera crew was lucky the Jedi wasn’t armed and would never knowingly hurt non combatants. “Again, find him and ask him. But I wouldn’t get in blaster range.”

The cheesy animation took them out of the segment. “Whoa there, Luke, sounds like we might have hit too close to the truth.” The screen wiped to the next segment, another installment of a never ending feud between some singers. 

Leia switched the show off. “I would like to sue those bastards.”

“Sue? The blaster range idea sounds good to me,” Han grumbled.

“What were they talking about, about the song? What song?” Leia glanced over at Han. Her hands were clenched at the awful way those people had ambushed Luke. She should have warned him about that. He hadn’t been ready for it at all. 

“I don’t know. Something about what song he chose for the dance.” Han was already scanning the holonet for some recording of it. There had to be one out there. 

It didn’t take long to find.

Leia could tell right away that something was off. Both Luke and Arica were wearing black this week, Arica’s long hair pulled into a twist at the back of her head. The two of them made as fetching a couple as ever—but… The dance was a Yavinian tango, a dance that was supposed to be fluid and passionate. The way Luke and Arica were dancing, it wasn’t. It was like they were meters apart from each other, even though their bodies were close. Luke had all the steps down, as far as Leia could tell, but there was no spark at all. His movements were stiff and lifeless.

It was reflected in the judges’ scores. For the first time, Luke landed in the bottom two and was in danger of going home. 

She turned to say something to Han, but stopped at the expression on his face. His eyes were miserable, his jaw tight. He might not have her or Luke’s connection to the Force but she and Luke had both learned how to sense his emotions under the surface. He was in turmoil. “What is it?” she asked. 

“The song.” 

“What about it?”

“You don't remember that song?”

His words pinged a memory in her. It was a slow, torchy song from a couple years back. “Maybe?”

He shook his head. “Yavin.” 

“I don't …”

“You and Luke were sitting at a table, at the party after we got the medals. He heard… look, I saw you two across the floor, hearing that song and both about to fall apart…”

And she suddenly remembered with aching clarity. The lyrics were about leaving, and remembering and goodbye, that was enough. Everything came back to goodbye. It was playing as Han had dragged them away from prying eyes, back to her quarters. Han just listening to them as she and Luke nearly came apart, tallying their losses. The three of them drinking to forget, burying their pain in each other's arms. 

Before the celebration, they’d fallen together as a heady lark, driven by adrenaline and near-death and joy, almost without thought. After the party, it was if they had knotted their ties to each other, ties that had slipped and frayed but they had always found a way to pull back together. Their lives together had always seemed to lurch from the depths of hell to great heights and back. Now, in peace, they had settled so easily into their relationship, without the Empire ripping them apart...

“Oh, no.” Leia squeezed his arm. “You don’t think—”

“That he was saying goodbye? I don't know—what did he say when they were picking it?” Han closed his eyes. “It was important to him, that it always reminded him of how his life has changed? Past tense, the whole time, past tense.”

“You know he wouldn't do that.” She shook his arm to make him look at her. “Han, you know he wouldn’t do that. You always want to believe the worst.”

“Get kicked in the teeth enough—”

“Stop it.”

“You saw the rehearsal footage. He’s taken with her.” His eyes were as desperate as she had ever seen them. He might be the one without the Force but he read people and situations, or he wouldn’t have lived as long as he had before them. 

“Han, you know as well as I do how much they doctor that footage. Remember our interview?” Leia was trying to be the practical one, but Han’s words slipped into that little crack of uncertainty she’d been feeling since leaving Coruscant.

“I know, but—”

There was no time for this, as much as Leia wished there were. “Han. It’s going to be all right.” _And even if it’s not, there’s nothing we can do about it here and now_. “You’ll see. We’ve got reinforcements coming soon. Maybe then we can go home. But for right now, I need you here with me, do you hear me?” Leia reached out and turned Han’s face to hers, looking him in the eye. “I need you in _this_ fight, not the one you’re afraid will come later.”

Han’s eyes cleared as her words got through to him. “Yeah. Okay, I—yeah.” He leaned in and kissed her carefully. “I’m here.” Leia picked up his thought as if he had actually said it. _Please let Luke be here too._


	5. Freestyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This week's gifset is here.](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/148655322563/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and)

“You’ve had a rough couple of weeks.” Jorlonn Shijou stood near Luke as they rehearsed the show opening, false sympathy on his face. “I thought the judges were completely wrong about you.” 

“Thanks.” Luke looked toward the director, wishing they’d start already. He remembered watching the holovids that Shijou had starred in years ago. They even got as far as Tatooine. Sitting with Biggs and Tank in the outdoor arena, throwing sand at each other and horsing around. War movies, a lot of them, family dramas—all of them tinged with a strong sense of patriotism and support for the Empire.

The holovids hadn’t aged well, but then, neither had Shijou. He’d proven ridiculously vain since the show had started, arguing with his makeup staff before each show, insisting on more and more extensive work to try and regain his youth.

“Honestly,” Shijou said, insincerely. “I don’t understand how they could say that you and Arica lacked ‘passion’ in your dance last night.”

Luke summoned all of his patience and gave Shijou a friendly smile. “They weren’t wrong. We were off our game.” 

“By now everyone’s seen just how much passion you have. The voters, especially.”

There was nothing for Luke to say in response to that without being incredibly rude, so he just kept the smile on his face.

Shijou wasn’t done goading him. “I, for one, was caught by surprise. My understanding was that the Jedi didn’t go in much for ‘passion’. But I suppose some of those old rules don’t apply when you’re the only one, do they?”

“I’m too young to remember all the stories. I’d love to sit down sometime and have you tell me what you remember.” Luke might have left the wide-eyed, aw-shucks farmboy behind years ago, but he could still pull that expression out, and he did, looking Shijou dead in the eye. “It was so long ago, not many people remember.” 

Luke generally kept his mental shields up when in a crowd—things got too overwhelming and loud otherwise at times, but even through the shields he felt a surge of anger coming from Shijou—Luke had scored a hit. Before Shijou could retort, the director called for their attention and the rehearsal started in earnest.

#

The show was going all out for freestyle week. In addition to the music and flashy costumes, the teams were going to have holographic elements to work with as well, a chance to literally change the setting for their dances. Luke knew from talking to Coby and Devonoa that most of their partners were trying to go for the most outrageous, exotic locales imaginable, all flash and no substance.

He should have known that Arica would have other ideas.

“Why not Tatooine?” she said, as they sat sharing lunch during a rehearsal break.

“I thought we were done having me play myself,” Luke said, feeling a little tug of good humor for the first time in days.

“Oh, we are. Not you, of course. But we could set a story there. I can just see the holographs: the burning suns, the sand—everyone else is going for fanciful, let’s hit them with something real.” Arica was caught up in her idea, and Luke liked her best like this. Speaking of real, this felt real, more real than when she was trying to flirt or when she was performing. Just an artist focused on her craft. He could respect that.

“Okay but honestly, I don’t think you can tell an interesting story about Tatooine,” he joked. “Nothing ever happens there.”

“ _You_ happened there,” she pointed out. 

“Maybe, but this isn’t about me.”

The next day, she bounded into the rehearsal hall, waving a datapad. “I’ve got it. I’ve got our story.”

Luke stopped stretching and came to see what she had.

“I was reading about the history of Tatooine last night. I had no idea slavery was such an issue there.”

 _It still is_ , Luke thought, a little grimly. Despite the Republic’s best efforts, there were still pockets of the planet controlled by the Hutts. He thought of his father, his grandmother, and the lives they’d led.

Arica went on. “There was an uprising about twenty-five or thirty years ago. There’s not a lot of information about it, almost like it was suppressed, but that’s our story. Nobody knows where the leader came from, but hundreds of slaves were freed. We can use some of the backup dancers, but you and I will lead the revolt.” She paused, and gave him one of her sidelong smiles. “Mostly you.”

“I don’t know.” It felt a little too real to Luke. Who’d want to watch that?

“Just let me show you what I have so far.”

Hours later, Luke was tired, aching, drenched with sweat, but convinced. There was something powerful here in this story. He felt it reverberating through him as they moved together. Even without the holographics to back them up, Luke could feel the binary suns against his face again, feel the roiling sense of injustice that he’d known growing up.

 _But_ why _, Aunt Beru? How do they not know it’s wrong to own people?_ Shmi Skywalker was buried by the burnt-out remains of the Lars homestead, and Luke grew up knowing her story and knowing—accidentally—the story of Darth Vader.

 _What if_ was a game he knew better than to play, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the history of the galaxy would look like if Shmi had gotten free sooner, or had never been a slave.

“Hey. Luke, are you okay?” Arica brought him back to the here and now with a touch on his arm.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, what is it? Is it your friends?” She ushered him over to one of the seats around the edges of the room and handed him a container of water.

“No. It’s just—” Luke stopped and took a long swallow of water. “This is good. What you did here. It’s real. It’s not something people talked about a lot back home. It’s like they didn’t care.” He couldn’t get Shmi out of his mind. He had the feeling that she would approve somehow. 

“Thank you,” Arica said quietly.

“My grandmother was a slave,” he said, after a long pause. _My father was born a slave_ , he didn’t add, too aware of the cameras in the room.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” Arica covered his hand with hers.

“I don’t talk about it a lot. She died free.” Luke turned his hand over and squeezed Arica’s hand, needing the comfort. “Before I was born.”

“We can dedicate the performance to her if you’d like,” Arica said. 

How far had he come from that place to this. Grandson of a slave, son of a slave. “Yeah. I think—yeah.”

“Then come on.” Arica squeezed his hand and stood up. “Let’s get back to work and make it great for her.” 

They rehearsed later than normal, and at some point they stopped for dinner that one of the production assistants brought in. The camera crew had gone home—they’d hit their guild-sanctioned time limit for the day, so it was just the two of them. As tired as he was, Luke hadn’t been this relaxed in over a week.

The two of them sat cross-legged on the rehearsal floor across from each other, chasing mediocre Ivarujari noodles with decent beer. 

“I think we should lighten your hair from this one,” Arica was saying. “I’ve seen the old holovids, your hair used to be lighter from the sun.”

Luke wrinkled his nose, but he’d already learned it wasn’t worth the argument.

She laughed at his expression, then grew serious. “Tell me more about your grandmother?” she asked.

“I wish I could,” Luke said, putting down the cardboard container of food. “I only know her through my aunt’s stories.”

“What about your parents?”

“Never knew them either.” Luke gave a little shrug, keeping his attention on poking at his noodles. “There was something I didn’t want to tell you earlier, not in front of the cameras.” Why he was telling her now he wasn’t sure, but it just felt right. 

“What is it?”

“It wasn’t just my grandmother. My father was born a slave too.” It was so tempting to tell her everything, to tell _someone_ the whole truth outside of Han and Leia, but he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t just his story to tell anymore. 

“Luke…” Arica’s voice was full of soft, horrified sympathy. “ _You_ weren’t—”

“Oh no. No. But after today—I can imagine what life might’ve been like for them.”

“I’m so sorry. I never would have suggested this idea if I’d known.”

“No, it’s all right. It’s been… good, in a way.” Luke attempted to smile at her, but he was wrung out. Between barely sleeping in the enormous empty bed at home, rehearsals, the worry over Han and Leia, and now spending a day living in his father’s shoes… it was too much. He had nothing left.

“Come on.” Arica rose to her feet and offered him a hand up. “You need to go home and get some rest.”

While he cleaned up the remnants of dinner, she signaled for a speeder cab. Luke wasn’t thinking when they walked out of the rehearsal studio together, her arm in his. They were laughing at something Jorlonn Shijou had thrown a fit over as they stepped into the Coruscant night.

The lights were blinding as they were surrounded. Luke’s immediate, instinctive response was to shove Arica behind him while he reached for a lightsaber that wasn’t there, just as he realized they weren’t under attack. At least, not physically. A wall of holovid cameras faced them, reporters shouting intrusive questions about their presumed love life. 

“Don’t say anything, just keep moving,” Arica murmured to him, and he got them through the press, still keeping her in a protected position behind him—it was nothing but instinct. 

It wasn’t until they’d both climbed in the cab and it was pulling away that he realized exactly how things must have looked. 

#

At the next rehearsal for the opening number, Luke found his spirits had lifted quite a bit. He was joking around with Coby and Arica as the cameras circled the rehearsal, filming bits to use on the show. 

During one of the breaks, Devonoa caught Luke by the arm as he passed her. “Hey kid, I know you’re the last Jedi and all, but I gotta ask: how stupid are you?”

“Excuse me?” Luke drew his arm back.

Devonoa flashed him her datapad, showing the headline from one of the gossip channels: _WHAT KIND OF DANCING? JEDI AND NEW FRIEND SEEN SPEEDING AWAY ON A SECRET TRYST_.

Luke groaned and pressed his fingers into his temples. “It wasn’t like that at all—”

“Don’t you see what’s happening here? The producers are setting you up. They’re playing you. It’s the oldest game these shows know how to run. Find some nice kid with a nice man or woman at home waiting for them, then set them up with a partner who does everything in their power to wreck it.”

“I’m not—”

“I know you’re not, but your partner sure as hell is, and by now the producers have enough footage of the two of you making moon eyes at each other to make you look like a first-rate cad. You think they don’t know your home life? Hell, kid, you three get full marks for trying, but anybody with eyes knows what’s going on.”

Luke couldn’t argue with her that it was a set-up. Arica had said as much—that the kiss was nothing but a publicity stunt—but he hadn’t thought it through. He was so worried about how Han and Leia were reacting that he hadn’t stopped to think about what might be happening to his reputation. Devonoa wasn’t wrong—he hadn’t realized just how bad things had gotten until that blasted encounter with TPZ.

His goal in agreeing to do this was to help generate good PR for the Republic, and maybe finally get word out that he was looking for students. He’d lost sight of that, in the drive to win the competition. What good did it do if he won the contest but everyone thought he was a rotten person?

It must have shown on his face, because Devonoa squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t feel too bad. You’re not the first one to fall for it. Only question is now—what are you gonna do about it?”

It was a good question, and not one he had an answer for. 

# 

"You two look terrible." Wedge greeted them as he swung down from his X-Wing. He and the rest of Rogue Squadron had taken out the Imperial remnants in the air, allowing the ground campaign to finally nearly finish off the remaining fighters.

"Thanks," Han said sourly. "Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, sorry about the delay. Couldn't be helped. Seriously, though. I thought Luke was the only one off. You two don't look much better." He slipped in for a hug from each of them.

Leia sighed. "We have been fighting, you know."

Antilles shot them a look. "You two? You've fought way worse than this group of Imperial scum. You're worried about Luke. C'mon, that you three even try to hide it—”

"Wedge," Leia hissed, looking around at the other Rogues dismounting from ships and meeting up with the Pathfinders.

"Please. Everybody around since Yavin knows. Anyway, you two need to get back. Luke looks so out of it."

"We saw TPZ," she sighed. "Is it everywhere?"

"Well, they are always first before the other news shows. The producers must be thrilled—ratings are up." Wedge paused. “You saw TPZ. Then you know—”

“We saw,” Han said, a little grimly. “What’s going on there, do you know?”

“I really don’t,” Wedge said. “I haven’t seen Luke in months. But listen. You know that sort of thing is part of the game, right? The show is counting on all the gossip, and all the gossip shows are talking about is how Luke’s performance has dropped since you two’ve been gone, and how he seems to be, well, ‘taking comfort’ with his partner—but you gotta know, it’s all just story. There’s nothing to it.”

“We know,” Leia answered, squeezing Han’s arm. She believed that, because she had to. If only Han could too.

“Still. Let’s get this done with so you two can go home.” 

#

Han and Leia threw themselves out of the speeder cab at the stage door entrance that the cast member families used. Before they could even catch their breath, J’nna, the Twi'lek live show producer, was leaning out the door, alerted by security. “Oh, you’re back!”

Leia shot a glance at Han. “Yes, did we make it in time?”

“Yes, yes, come in. The live show starts in five minutes, we’ll get you right in. Oh, Luke will be so happy to see you’re here.”

The two of them stared at the producer as she continued. “He’s been all over the place without you two around.”

“We both wanted to be here but we had obligations we couldn’t refuse.” Leia glanced at Han; he shared her concerned expression. Then they weren’t wrong—Luke was as out of sync as they were. 

“Lischelle, send a runner back, the general and the senator are here…” she said into her earpiece. Han and Leia traded amused grins as “thank the Maker” boomed out from the earpiece. A young Corellian boy came around the corner—Leia realized it was the director’s grandchild who Luke had mentioned, working his school break. He greeted Han in Corellian and she relaxed a fraction when Han summoned a grin and fell back into his first language as they followed him through the maze of props, risers, and equipment cases toward the dance stage, the sound of the band and the crowd easily as loud as the fight they had just come from.

The Stanrhos jumped up from their seats as the band wrapped up their warmup. A gaggle of teenage fans, with sparkly signs urging on Coby and Luke, screamed as Leia and Han threaded through the crowd to their customary table. The first pictures went out over the holonet: _Look who’s back!_ Coby’s fans were almost as excited as Luke’s—Coby’s fans had become Luke’s and vice versa. Once the two had collaborated on Coby’s holovid week dance, Coby had given an interview singing Luke’s praises.

Zara Stanrho pulled Leia into an embrace. “Oh it’s so good to see you—Luke is going to be so happy.”

“Nice to hear he missed us. Weren’t sure anybody noticed,” Han said, feeling as bewildered as Leia looked. 

“Well, the crew did,” Jameson Stanrho gripped Han’s arm. “And we did and Coby. Some people were happy he wasn’t dancing as well.” He gave a pointed look at Shijou, standing downstage from them, on their side of the floor, waiting for the opening group number. “Luke just hasn’t been himself.”

“And the media vultures have been hovering,” Zara said sourly, leaning into them as the ambient noise increased.

Leia covertly caught Han's eye and told him to shut up. “It couldn't be helped, we both had to be off world—we just got back.”

Below, just off stage, Lischelle sidled up to to Luke, who was in place for the opening number. 

“J’nna says your friends are here.”

“My—” Could they be back? He dropped his shields a fraction against the howling of beings all around him and closed his eyes. He could feel Leia’s warmth and Han’s reflected with hers. He let it wash over him a moment before the crowd began to come in with it and he had to pull his shields back up.

“The general and the senator.” She pointed through ebbing dry ice fog. He was already looking happier, and then, as he followed her gesture and saw them in the dimming lights—Lischelle had seen Luke smile before, but this one, this one was off the charts.

“Have I got time to go around?”

“We’re on final countdown—two minutes to air. So no. But you should have time to sneak over when Kelfer is setting up the first dance. You end up on that side of the floor anyway.” 

Flynn, their director, was in her earpiece, “Get him over there, we’ll find a camera to get it.”

Word spread from earpiece to booth to earpiece around the floor and the camera crews were all vying to be the ones that shot the reunion. Luke tried to peer through the rush of dancers hitting marks, the drifting fog, and the swooping lights to catch a glimpse of Han and Leia, but even without seeing them, he could feel the tension draining out of him. Whatever they had seen, or not seen, they were back and safe and the three of them could solve anything. 

Coby looked over at him with a big grin of his own. “I see them!” He shouted over the band’s intro as the stage shook with the roar of the crowd and the amplified voiceover of “Live! From Coruscant! It’s Dancing Across the Galaxy!” 

Arica, across the floor, saw Luke’s megawatt smile and then turned to the audience, scanning. The general and senator were at their usual table and Coby’s cheering section was practically a living, screaming organism. She pasted on her smile and got ready to dance.

Jhcor was briefed that they would be cutting to Luke’s reunion as part of the introduction and he moved to it like the pro he was. “Welcome to Dancing Across the Galaxy. I’m Kelfer Jhcor along with my lovely co-host Wendella. Tonight is freestyle week and we have some wild dancing for you tonight. And we have some good news for one of our contestants.”

In the control booth, Flynn was calmly instructing his switcher. “Pick up three. Three, get in closer.”

Luke moved from the last pose of the opening dance, walking toward Han and Leia as if he’d come from battle. For a moment, Han remembered Endor, Luke in black coming from the forest depths, alive, whole and back with them. As he did that night, Han held his breath, then smiled broadly as Luke hugged Leia first, then came to hug him. This time, there was a roar from the crowd around them as they embraced. 

“You’re okay?” Luke asked against his ear. 

“We’re fine, Riosa’s free. Go knock ‘em out, kid.” Han gave his best grin and could feel his worry begin to ebb as Luke looked up at him with those eyes he had fallen for so long ago. _It’s going to be fine, it has to be._

#

The show was easily the most elaborate one of the season so far—fitting for the last big episode before the finale. Leia’s life had never felt more surreal: not even a day before, she and Han had been in a war zone risking their lives and trying to save others, and now here they sat, in a crowd of well-dressed Coruscantis, watching a bunch of at least marginally famous people dance.

The holographic settings for each of the dances gave everything an additional dreamlike air. Devonoa and her partner moved through what looked like a gas giant’s atmosphere—the starkness of it for once fitting the old racer’s style. Coby’s performance looked like it had been plunked straight into the heart of Endor, turning him into a capering woodland creature. It was charming, and Leia couldn’t help but laugh.

Leia remembered Jorlonn Shijou from his days as the darling of the Empire. Like most old Imperial supporters, with the change in the wind, he’d changed directions, but she never quite believed his conversion. He had the face of a man who dearly missed seeing armies of white-armored stormtroopers overrun innocent civilians. 

He and Luke were nearly tied in the standings, with Coby in a close second. All three of them had to give amazing performances. Coby had, now it was Shijou’s turn. Shijou and his partner took the stage, each clad in immaculate white. The stage faded into a cityscape, and other dancers joined them. It was a battle of sorts, with Shijou and his partner obviously meant as the heroes, the underdogs against a mysterious force trying to take over the city and—

“ _That’s Riosa_ ,” Han hissed in her ear. 

Leia squeezed his hand hard, trying to keep her anger off her face. Han was right, it was. She recognized some of the buildings. Although none of the holonet news outlets had recorded any of the unrest on Riosa, somehow Shijou had found out, and was telling the story from the perspective of the Imperial hold outs, painting them as the heroes. She half-wondered—did Shijou know where they’d been? Was this some sort of message?

The judges loved it. As always, they loved Shijou’s precision and lauded him for finding a missing element of emotion that he’d struggled with all competition long. The final score: two 9s and a 10 from an overwrought Bredan—the first 10 awarded in the competition.

“Luke better have something to beat that Imperial bastard,” Han muttered. 

Luke’s segment started with the usual rehearsal footage. Leia’s heart constricted when she realized what the theme of the dance was. After the dance sequences, the cameras cut to Luke and Arica sitting close together at the edge of the studio. Luke was visibly upset.

“Luke, what is it? Are you all right?”

“My grandmother was a slave,” Luke said, almost out of mic range of the cameras, which crept in closer.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” 

Luke gave a little smile, but it was a sad one. “She died free. Before I was born.”

The camera stayed on Arica’s concerned face, while Luke said, “This isn’t about me.”

“Is it about your friends?”

As they spoke, the cameras moved between their faces, catching Arica’s worried eyes and Luke’s downcast expression. “I don’t talk about it a lot. It’s like they didn’t care.”

“I’m sorry,” Arica repeated. “If it helps, I care.”

“No, I know.” A shot of Luke covering her hand with his. “This is good. It’s real.”

“Come on.” Arica stood up. “Let’s get back to work and make it great.” 

Han was bristling so hard Leia was afraid he was about to stand up and make a scene. “It’s not real. You know that. Luke would never say that.”

“I know, but damn it, Leia—”

“Cameras,” she hissed. Luke and Arica were taking their places on stage with the other dancers for their number, and the cameras were sure to focus on Han and Leia at any moment. 

Once the scene changed and the music started, Leia was transported. She saw a world she only knew through Luke’s eyes. The heat and the sand and the misery felt real. Both Luke and Arica wore clothing that was ragged and dusty, but still tried to carry an aura of glamour—dancers for a shadowy master on the edge of the stage. Leia recognized the transmitter in his hands, and wondered how many people watching did, if they knew that one press of a button would kill a slave in an instant. 

Despite their worn, aged costumes, they were stunningly beautiful when they started to dance, the music delicate but driving. Luke’s hair was lighter than Leia had seen it in years, if half-hidden beneath a cap, and the glimpse of the boy he’d been nearly broke her heart. They spun around the stage, unabashedly romantic despite their situation, until the “master” stepped forward and tried to pull Arica away. For a few measures of the music, Luke was without his partner, and Leia could feel his anger, his sadness, his sense of injustice drawing the audience in.

The music burst into a frenetic rhythm, and took Luke with it. He rallied the other dancers on the stage and they converged on Arica and the master, stealing her back and breaking the master’s transmitter.

The dance wound down with Luke and Arica dancing together again, but this time on their own terms, finally free. The song ended with them in an embrace in the middle of the dance floor as the desert landscape slowly faded away around them.

For several seconds after the music died, the audience was silent. Then it erupted into cheering screams, the crowd surging to its feet as a single entity, Leia and Han with them. Leia saw tears on more than one face, and even her own eyes were stinging.

“Mother of Moons,” Han breathed. “He did it. That’s it, everyone else can go home.”

It took a long time for Kelfer Jhcor to calm the audience enough to start the judging. As they waited it out, he hit Luke on the shoulder with a huge grin—like the crew, Jhcor and Wendella had their favorites and Luke was one of them. “That was something, Luke, let’s see what the judges have to say. Viviken?”

She hadn’t cried the whole season, but Viviken was sniffling and waved her judge’s card to gather her thoughts. Then she gestured Luke over and hugged his neck. Luke dipped his head, and Leia turned to Han, who was grinning as she was. Luke was back. 

“We have been waiting all season for you to show us your heart, Luke, and that? That was wonderful. You brought me into that world—I could _feel_ it. You told me a story, your dancing was so pure...” She waved them on when she lost her composure.

“Alin?”

The Mon Calamari was smiling as much as he could. “That, my lad, was what I’ve been waiting from you. You told your story, but you didn’t let it affect your form or your focus. Every move was spot on, not wasted. That was a dance and a story. Yes, that was the best we’ve seen from you!”

“Bredan?”

Bredan was as choked up as Viviken, but as always, he was in full hyper mode, halfway across the judges’ table. “Luke, my boy, that was real. I was _in_ that desert with you, freeing your lady love, fighting the master, fighting for freedom. We saw your heart tonight, my darling. Excellent.”

Jhcor gestured them up the stairs to Wendella, who was as emotional as she started her interview. “That was… wow. That was amazing.”

“Thank you,” Luke smiled, looking more relaxed than he had in weeks. “You have to give all the credit to Arica, she got the story out of me, got me to dance like that.”

Arica tilted her head modestly. “I couldn’t have done that without Luke. He always brings his heart to everything he does.”

From below them, the judges’ scores echoed—tens across the board. As the dancers all assembled on the floor for the ending of the show, Luke was looking past Arica to Han and Leia. Flynn in the booth missed nothing, yelling at his crews to get the shot across the line of the teams so that it was obvious who Luke was smiling at as the show wrapped up.

#

They finally made it to the safety of their apartment after wading through post show interviews. Luke made a distinct point of pulling Han and Leia in his wake as he and Arica talked to the usual scrum of entertainment news crews waiting outside the studio. The holonet-only aftershow replayed the reunion and the dance while the live audience of mainly Coby and Luke fans roared their approval.

The door locked behind them, the three of them ended up in the kitchen. Another night, they might have braved a restaurant but their emotions were rubbed raw, and the crush of news operations and paparazzi around the studio convinced them escape was the best option. Besides, two weeks of separation had taken its toll. 

Luke was glad he had gotten enough takeout over the last few days that the table was covered with boxes of their favorites among the bottles of beer. They were all famished so talking was merely grunting around wolfing down takeout from half a dozen cuisines. Luke asked about the battle and Han and Leia gave him an abbreviated version, omitting their nightmares and worry.

“And here I was, on this crazy show.”

“But you were so fantastic tonight—and I could feel everything.” Leia took a long swallow of beer. 

Han slapped Luke’s arm. “You were great, kid. I mean, I’ve seen you fight but that was amazing. Damn shame about Devonoa, though. She didn’t deserve to go home.”

“I have a good teacher.” Luke ducked his head, worrying at the edge of his takeout box.

Leia looked at Han. She could read him urging her to start. She sighed, but knew it had to be her, at least at the beginning. She was calmer, she could read Luke’s turmoil but knew she could soothe him. Or at least she hoped. “Luke…”

He looked up with those guileless blue eyes. “What is it?” 

Leia caught the undercurrent of fear and guilt that he was trying to choke down. “Luke, if you…” There was nothing to be done but say it flat out. “Luke, Han and I—we’ve never actually sat down and talked about… us.”

Luke looked close to panic and she met Han’s worried eyes. “What do you mean us?” Luke’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I mean…” By the Maker, there was no easy way into this. “If you... if you ever got tired of hiding, or if you ever wanted to have children of your own, we’d understand if you wanted—”

Luke stared at her in horror. “No, wait, what—you can’t think that poodoo on TPZ was real—”

“No, but I’ve seen how she looks at you.”

“There’s nothing between us.”

“Kid, I think we need to draw you a diagram for when someone’s flirting with you,” Han said.

Luke rolled his eyes. “There is nothing between us,” he repeated. “I didn’t know she was going to kiss me. I know I should have said something when the news started, but she made it sound harmless, and that it would make it easier for us to win, and I… went along with it, when I knew I shouldn’t have.”

Han caught Leia’s stricken expression and waded in. “Luke, listen. We… love you. Always will. I think… I know… aw, hell. We’ve been through so much, then that song you picked for the dance last week…”

Luke looked from one to the other. “I swear to the Force, I wish I’d never….” He stopped and took a breath. “I picked that song, because I always remember that night on Yavin—always remember the three of us lying there, talking. I poured out my heart to you two and you didn’t care that I was some farmboy from nowhere, grandson of a slave, not rich or powerful...you barely knew me. I barely knew you—and it was like we’d been together forever.”

Han dropped his head, looked up at Luke halfway. “That song is about remembering, saying goodbye.”

“That song is about me remembering who believed in me when no one else did. It’s where we started.” He looked from one to the other. “I would never do that to you. Never.” He caught his breath at the sorrow in Han’s eyes, felt the wave of pain from Leia. He slid from his chair and came around the table, kneeling between them, reaching for them. “You think I would—oh, no. Oh, I’m so sorry, never…” He closed his eyes for a long moment.

“Luke, if you want to be—”

“Stop, don’t even say that. You think I would leave you? And worse, tell you like that?” He shook his head. “Do you know that bed is enormous without all three of us in it? The very first night you were gone, I had that nightmare again.”

“All of us in the Emperor’s throne room?” Leia reached to lay her hand along his cheek, stroking back the freshly-blond hair as Luke nodded against her hand.

“You think I would leave the two of you, who know my whole heart… for…” He marshalled the Force and dropped his shields, knowing Leia could feel everything, hoping that Han could as well. As he did, he picked up the backwash from Leia. “You had the Death Star dream again.”

She smiled sadly. “I wait for a short stormtrooper and a flyboy who never come.”

Luke turned to Han. “Carbon freeze?”

Han tightened his fingers around Luke’s. “Worse. I sit in that cantina waiting, watch you walk out the door without me. Never have both of you in my life.”

Luke sighed, met Leia’s dark eyes, then Han’s hazel. “Do you know why I have that dream of us before the Emperor? You were in my soul when I stood there before him. I could stand there, not just because I was a Jedi, but because you two believed I could. Even if you didn’t know, you were with me.” He shook his head. “I love you both. No one will ever come between us.”

His words had the seriousness of a vow, his blue eyes as solemn as Leia had seen them. “Do you understand me?”

Leia was the one who unfroze first and dropped out of her chair to kneel in front of him, pulling Luke into her arms. What began with sweetness, with comfort, quickly flared as Leia nuzzled along Luke’s cheek until she could kiss him. All the time apart, all the worry, all the fear, it erupted into a kiss that had her grabbing his head, her fingers curling around his skull to keep him close. 

They parted, breathless, staring at each other wide-eyed until Han caught them each by the elbow and pulled them to their feet. “I’m not doing this on the kitchen floor,” he laughed. “Not when there’s an enormous bed just in the other room.” He slung his arms around their necks and steered them to the bedroom.

It had been a long time since the three of them had been caught up in such a mood of fumbling urgency, trying to steal kisses from each other and get undressed at the same time. When Luke’s commlink went off, they almost ignored it. But then Leia’s did. And then Luke’s did again. And a third time.

With an annoyed groan, he grabbed it. “Yes?”

“Luke—Shijou’s on the holonet right now. You have to go see.” It was Coby and he sounded agitated.

“Coby, this really isn’t a good—”

“Right now! My mom just tried to call the senator but she wasn’t answering. It’s bad, Luke. It’s really bad.”

“All right, all right, I will.”

It didn’t take long to find what Coby meant. Luke sat on the edge of the bed between Leia and Han, finding one of the late night talk shows that specialized in covering shows like _Dancing_. Jorlonn Shijou sat in the guest’s seat in all his smug glory while the host recapped the show. 

“And of course,” the host was saying, “we have to talk about all of the drama surrounding tonight’s episode. Your biggest competition, Luke Skywalker, had a big night, first with his cheering section returning after a mysterious absence, and then blowing the judges away and earning a perfect score.”

“Ah yes, his ‘cheering section’,” Shijou sneered. “Well he doesn’t think much of them, does he, given what he said about them tonight in his interview.”

“That was quite a moment, let’s take a look at it.”

_“Is it about your friends?”_

_“I don’t talk about it a lot. It’s like they didn’t care.”_

_“I’m sorry. If it helps, I care.”_

_“No, I know. This is good. It’s real.”_

“Not much ambiguity there, is there?” the host was saying, and Luke suddenly couldn’t see straight.

“I never said that!” No wonder Han and Leia had been so tense. He turned to them. “You have to believe me. We were talking about slavery and I said some of the people of Tatooine…” Han and Leia both started as Luke slammed his artificial hand against his leg. “Those bastards. They edited it so that...no, never. I _never_ said that.”

Leia caught his hand. “Shh. We know. They did the same thing to us.”

“Regardless of the drama in his personal life,” the host said, “he’s been doing very well. How are you feeling about going up against him in the finale? Or do you think that fan favorite Coby Stanrho is more competition for you?”

“Honestly, I’m not surprised that Skywalker has come this far, given all the special abilities he has.” 

The host, smelling blood in the water, leaned forward. “Are you saying that Luke Skywalker has been cheating? Using the Force somehow to win?” 

Shijou primly folded his hands in his lap. “I'm just saying that I wish I had his ability to influence people's minds.”

Luke fell back on the bed, covering his face with his hands, unable to believe what he was hearing. 

“Well you heard it here first, folks. Is it possible that the last Jedi Knight is cheating? Using an unfair advantage to win? Let’s hope the producers of _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ are running a clean show!”

“Call the producers,” Leia said. “Right now. When word of this gets out, it’s going to be a nightmare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Arica's dance number and music were inspired largely by [Lindsay Stirling's The Arena](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MCjU-Du3eI).


	6. Tango, Revisited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The (final!) gifset for this fic is here.](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/149516204053/save-the-last-dance-for-me-by-culturevulture73-and)

“Luke’s in the shower,” Han announced as he came into the kitchen. “He’s shaved, so we’re ready except for clothes.”

“Speeder will be here in half an hour.” The producers had booked them on _Holonet 13 This Morning_. To Leia’s mind, that was the best choice. The mostly-serious morning show was on the same network as the froth of _Dancing_. She had been on before and knew they would get a fair hearing. 

“Devonoa sent me a comm a few minutes ago—she’s going to be on _SFI_ this afternoon, the sports show, on their ‘Six Decent Minutes.’ She was livid—I’ll play it for you later.” 

“Coby’s mother forwarded me some of the comments from Coby’s fans,” Leia said. “You do not want to run afoul of those people—they are all over the holonet. Coby’s statement that he doesn’t believe Luke cheated has been repeated nearly a million times already and he just made it about ten minutes ago.” She put down her data pad. “Good thing, the rest of the media is a bit mixed. The old Imperial-favoring media is all for Shijou.”

“How the hell did a little dance show turn into a referendum on the Force?” Han poured himself caf, leaned over to top off her cup. They had contacted the producers and spread the word among their usual contacts before falling into bed last night, wrapped around each other but unable to settle. Instead, they had barely slept, worried about the week to come. 

“How does anything turn into a disaster? Add us to it.” Leia sighed. “No, we’ll be fine. Luke is going to be poised and dashing in his blacks. I’m wearing dark red, you’re going in your general’s jacket, and you and I will sit in the green room and look encouraging.”

“Sit in… oh no, not the one where we’re on camera.” He and Luke had never watched so much news and informational programming in their lives before they all moved in together. Leia kept tabs on all the news shows on traditional entertainment channels and had staff who sent her summaries of the full time news networks’ daily shows. 

“They’ll be fair, and they’re relatively serious, as these shows go.” 

“So you want me in the blacks today?” Luke came into the kitchen and headed straight for caf.

“Yes. You’re going to look above reproach, we all are. That has-been bastard is not going to hurt your reputation.”

“Never liked any of his holos—he was always a little too much.” Han said sourly. “You’d think he single-handedly won all the wars he was in.”

“Devonoa can’t stand him, I can barely tolerate him, even Coby has had it with him.” Luke flopped down at the table with his mug. “Shijou just wishes he had near the following that Coby does, though. Most of Shijou’s fans are too old to bother with the holonet.” 

Han snorted. “Well, if you can’t stand him, he has to be a jerk. You get along with everyone.”

“That’s not true.”

Han looked skyward, then at Leia, who was trying not to laugh.

“I do not get along with everyone!” Luke protested. 

“Name me one person—and the Emperor doesn’t count.” 

Luke fought a grin, hiding it with a drink from the mug. “Give me a minute. I’m thinking.”

Leia stood, shooing at them both. “Go get dressed, both of you. We’re going to be late.”

While they were on the way to the studio, Luke’s commlink buzzed. It was Flynn, the director.

“Luke, we may have a solution to the cheating accusation. Can I run it past you?”

Luke had a decent sense of who among the execs was on his side, and Flynn was one of them. “Sure—we’re almost to the studio, but go ahead.” He set the comm so Leia and Han could hear.

“So Shijou’s accusations are based in you using the Force to win, right? What if you can’t use the Force? Isn’t there some way to stop it?”

Leia got there first. “Ysalamiri.” 

“Ys-what?” Flynn said.

“Absolutely not,” Han interjected. “Do you remember what happened to him last time, because I do.”

“I do,” Leia said, “I saw him react same as you.” No need to mention that she’d reacted the same way, that was just one more secret they were keeping: her Force sensitivity, that they were brother and sister, their relationship...

“Leia’s right,” Luke said. “It’s reversible, there are no long term effects, and it would prove definitively that I wasn’t cheating.”

“No, damn it.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Flynn interrupted. “Can you please tell me what you’re talking about?”

“I don’t know how hard they’d be to find.” Luke waved a hand at Han to quiet him. “Lizard-like creatures from Myrkr. The Empire used to be fond of keeping them around because they somehow block the Force in a radius around them. The more there are, the bigger the radius.” He looked to Leia, “I think... Size of the studio… two or…” He looked at Leia, who tilted her head, shook it. “No, I’m thinking three.” She nodded. 

“Why is no one listening to me?” Han complained. “This is a terrible idea. What if something happens and you _need_ the Force, Luke?”

“The Empire isn’t going to attack a holonet studio,” Luke said mildly. To Flynn he said, “Leia can get you some more information while I’m doing the interview. I think this will work.”

#

“Welcome back to _Holonet 13 This Morning_.” The lead female anchor, Corlina, was standing up by a monitor screen, bringing them back in from the hour break. “Coming up in this half hour, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker—there he is in the YT Ship Builders green room, with Senator Leia Organa and General Han Solo.”

The camera showed the three of them sitting together in a comfortable glass-walled space complete with overstuffed chairs, chatting amiably with the other guests.

“He’ll be responding to charges from holovid star and fellow competitor on _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ , Jorlonn Shijou, who claims that Luke is using his Jedi powers unfairly to win the competition.”

After the news summary, a production assistant ushered Luke to the fourth seat at the round glass table, attaching a mike. An older pop song about magic brought them out of commercial, and Luke found himself facing Corlina and Marin Roy, her co-anchor, a gruff older human. He smiled, his calm in place, tuning out the cameras and focusing on the anchors, as Leia had taught him.

Corlina led them into the segment. “As we head to the finale of _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ , holovid legend Jorlonn Shijou made news last night, accusing fellow competitor, Jedi Knight and Alliance hero Luke Skywalker, of using the Force to influence the judges and viewers across the galaxy to vote in his favor. We welcome Luke Skywalker to the table.” 

Luke smiled at them. “Good morning,”

“Let’s get right to the main accusation.” Marin was widely known to dislike the entire celebrity interview process and usually managed to be off set when the _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ segments appeared each week. But this had become news. “Jorlonn Shijou claims that you’re using the Force to cheat. Your response?” 

“Well, first, I’m not. Second, the Force doesn’t work that way.”

“For those who don’t know about the Jedi, could you tell us, then how the Force does work?” Corlina intervened, as she usually did when Marin charged out like a rancor at a guest. 

“Sure. The Force is the connection that all living beings and nature have. It’s something that Jedi are sensitive to—we can tap that connection, if you like. Other people can too, but we’re just trained to be more sensitive to it. I can feel that connection—the best way I can explain it is it’s like floating in an ocean, and the waves around you are the Force. It flows, much like water does.”

“And you can access it?”

“Yes. A Jedi uses the Force for heightened senses and to help when in battle. But we don’t attack—the Jedi defend only. It helps me when I’m in a duel, but as a dancer? No. Anyone who saw my early efforts this season would know that. Just because I can use the Force, doesn’t make me graceful.”

“So no influence on the judges either?” Marin pressed.

Luke realized the camera was on him and smiled. “There are ways to use the Force to influence the weak-minded. Alin, Viviken and Brendan are far from weak-minded.”

“What about the audience?” 

“The idea that I could somehow send out thoughts that would influence millions of viewers? I don’t have—and I wouldn’t want—that kind of power. I can’t hypnotise someone through a holoviewer screen. If I have fans voting for me, I’ll give the credit to Coby Stanrho—it seems a lot of his fans have become mine.”

“That all sounds good,” Marin said, “but no offense, we’ve just got your word for it. How can the public be reassured that _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ is running a clean show here?”

Luke hoped like hell the cameras weren’t on Han right about now, because Luke could feel him from here, bristling and ready to charge to Luke’s defense.

“I’ve spoken to the director this morning and we may have found a solution that would prevent me from using the Force during the performance,” Luke said. “I’ll let them say more.”

Marin looked at him shrewdly. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” Luke said, lifting his chin and looking right into the man’s eyes, which meant that he was staring dead at the camera over Roy’s shoulder. “Being without the Force… it’s a very uncomfortable feeling, but I want everyone to know that I don’t cheat. If that’s what it takes to prove it, then so be it.”

“Is there something else you want everyone to know?” Corlina asked, picking up the director in her earpiece, prompting.

Luke looked at her with his shy smile. “I want to clear up something that was implied last night, about Senator Organa and General Solo. We’ve been friends now for nearly ten years. If you don’t know anything else about us, then know this: the three of us have been been shot, tortured, and were nearly killed by the Empire. That didn’t break our friendship. Han, Leia and I were friends long before this show and we will continue to be long after. To insinuate that they don’t care about my family or my past is an insult to them.”

There was half a second of dead air and then Corlina smiled, as the floor manager gestured to begin to wrap up. “So, last question. Does Marin look like General Solo?”

Luke grinned, knowing he had made it through the gauntlet. He made a show of looking at Roy, whose expression in return was so much Han that he laughed. “Yes. You’re Corellian too, right?”

“Yes,” the anchor grumbled. “I don’t see it, myself.”

“He doesn’t either.” Luke smiled. 

Corlina laughed, then said. “We thank you for being here with us, Luke. We’ll see you next week, right? After the finale?”

“Oh, yes. I’m not going anywhere.”

#

After Holonet 13, the rest of the day was a blur of appearances on seemingly every entertainment show going. All of them wanted a comment and if they couldn’t get Luke live, they reran the appearance from that morning. 

Late in the afternoon, Han cued up the sports show _SFI_ to see Devonoa’s appearance for “Six Decent Minutes.” After a brief recap of her racing career, she detailed her time on _Dancing_ , giving her highest marks to Luke and Coby. “Who knew that holovid kid was such a decent young one, y’know? I didn’t. And I sure as hell didn’t know the hero of the Rebellion was that good of a guy. And no ego. He gave credit to everyone else.”

“So you don’t believe the charges from Jorlonn Shijou?” The aging redheaded host, a former Five Sabers champion, asked.

“That son of a sarlaac? I wouldn’t believe him if he told me the galaxy had stars in it. He just can’t stand the fact that Luke can outdance him. Plus the crew all loves Skywalker. He’s a good being.”

“What about his friends?”

“What about ‘em? Look, I know what I saw—those three, you couldn’t get a vibroblade between ‘em. Besides, once the producers got finished with my life story? I barely recognized it.”

#

Coby was due that night for a live question and answer with his fans on the newest social media hub on the holonet. Luke got them online in time to see Coby’s million-credit smile.

“Hi beings! It’s your pal, Coby! I’m sorry I haven’t been checking in as much but it’s been so busy with _Dancing Across the Galaxy_. Wait ‘till you see what we’re going to do this week—we have two dances!”

He proceeded to tell his fans about the dances, got his partner on camera for a few minutes of banter, then started taking questions. The first one came up and he looked straight into the camera.

“Jilly from Chandrila wants to know ‘What about Luke Skywalker? Do you think something’s going on?’” He smiled. “Hi Jilly! My answer is no, there is _nothing_ going on. Luke is not cheating—he’s the last Jedi! He doesn’t cheat. Remember, he didn’t have to help me on my dance during Holovid Week—he could have just told me a few things and left. Instead, he practiced with me for hours and worked with me on how to use the lightsaber until I did it right. His friends and my parents are friends. I don’t believe he cheated. Not him.”

#

With all the craziness blowing up around him, Luke still had to continue with rehearsals, and going into the last week, it was more intense than ever.

“So the problem with our score last week,” Arica said, “is that we have to follow it up.”

She and Luke stood together looking over her notes as they planned for the final week of competition. “Plus,” she added, “we’ve got two dances to prepare for this week. For one of them, all the teams have to do the same one. It’s the Golden Waltz.”

Luke grinned. “At last, something I know.”

Arica looked astonished and the camera operator zoomed in. “You know the Golden Waltz?”

“Well, I’ve danced it,” Luke admitted. “Not sure if it’s the same steps you’ve got in mind. It’s a diplomat’s dance. Senator Organa taught it to me—well, her and General Solo.” He paused and grinned, remembering that weekend. The dance hadn’t been all they’d taught him. He laughed. “Hey, you could settle an argument. Where’d it start? Corellia or Alderaan?”

“Oh no,” Arica laughed in return. “I’m not getting in the middle of a family disagreement, and that sounds like one.”

Luke dipped his head. “Yeah, that’s probably a wise move.”

“I’m glad they’re home,” she said suddenly. “You seem… happier.” Arica, however, did not, despite her faint smile. “Guess we’ll need to keep rehearsals shorter this week, huh?”

Something in the way she said it rang warning klaxons in his head. “No. I want to give our best performance. Whatever it takes. But you said two dances. What’s the other one?”

“We have to repeat our worst dance on night two. For us, it’s the Yavinian Tango.” 

Luke groaned, not having to amp it up much. “Again?”

“No, listen. It’ll be fine. I have an idea.”

When Arica said “I have an idea” with that look in her eyes, Luke already knew to expect something good—and that he’d be going home in pain for the week.

Before he could complain, she went on. “We had a real breakthrough last week getting you to open up. We’re going to push through that this week. No tricks.” She stopped, her cheeks coloring. “I mean, I know you haven’t been using any tricks, I didn’t mean to say—”

“No, it’s fine. I knew what you meant.”

“I meant, no choreography tricks. Strip this dance down to the essentials, just you, me, the music, and as much emotion as we can pull out of it.”

“That sounds… like a challenge.”

“You can do this, Luke. You’ve come so far, I know you can. And if we can nail it, there’s no way we won’t win.” 

Alin Vebb, the Mon Calamari judge, came in to see them at the next day’s rehearsal. As the camera crew fussed with a balky camera unit, Alin moved to Luke. “It’s a honor to finally have a chance to talk to you, Luke. I wanted to thank you properly.”

“I should be thanking you. Without the Mon Calamari, we would never have won. Do you know Admiral Gial Ackbar? He keeps threatening to retire but I don’t know if the Republic will let him.” Luke smiled.

“Only as one of our heroes. If there is a chance, I would like to thank your friends, Senator Organa and General Solo.”

“Absolutely. I’ll make sure that happens.”

Arica stayed in the background, smiling, but Luke sensed tension coming from her. He couldn’t put his finger on the cause. Was she upset that the judge was taking rehearsal time from them? That he had Luke’s attention?

The camera crew triumphantly interrupted them and they went through a limited rehearsal, full of shots of Luke hanging on every word and nodding as Vebb explained things.

“The problem with your tango was focus—I understand you had a bit of stress those two weeks.”

 _Putting it mildly_. Luke shook it off and smiled. “Yes. All gone now.”

“Good. Let’s see a little of the dance then.”

Without trying playing himself as character or worrying about Han and Leia, Luke moved through the dance with more assuredness.

“That’s much better than your original performance. Still, watch your timing. You have a tendency to speed up.”

“I’m used to fighting and flying—no consistent beat to either of them.”

“Ah!” Vebb gave a startled laugh. “That explains so much!” He grew serious again, looking between Luke and Arica. “But don’t forget. The Yavinian tango is a dance of passion first and foremost. That’s what we missed on your first night, there was no sense of connection between the two of you.” He raised his webbed hands, “I know—I know what the tabloids have had to say, but whatever the real story is, none of it matters if we don’t see it on the floor. So. Connect. Let us see it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Luke said. Arica echoed him, her voice a little tight.

“I’m still quite impressed with you, my lad. You’ve come a long way.”

He knew Vebb meant just on the show, but Luke shook his head and smiled, thinking more about the past several years and just how right he was.

#

The first night of the finale had everyone on edge. No one quite knew what to make of the ysalamiri in their cages around the edge of the stage. They weren’t large, but the lizards weren’t happy to be caged in such a noisy environment either. Agitated, each of them paced and hissed in their cages, raising little spikes of fur along their backs.

Coby stood near one of the cages, his hands flexing into fists as he watched them curiously. Luke wasn’t the slightest bit curious. As much as he tried to keep peace in his heart for all living creatures, the ysalamiri made his skin crawl. He couldn’t feel them, couldn’t sense them—because for right now he couldn’t feel or sense _anyone_ , but at least he had the memory of what, say, Coby felt like, or Devonoa, or even Jorlonn. Where the ysalamiri were, there was nothing but a blank space.

“You ready for your waltz?” Luke asked him. 

“Yeah, it’s kind of dull though.” Coby wrinkled his nose. “It’s too much like some of the parties my folks made me go to. I like tomorrow’s dance better, if I get to do it.” It was down to Coby, Luke, and Jorlonn. After tonight it would just be two of them.

On closer look, Coby didn’t look great. His skin was paler than usual. “You okay, kid?” It came out of Luke’s mouth without his realizing it. Thankfully Han wasn’t there to hear it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like—I don’t know—like I can’t feel my feet or something, but that’s weird, because I _can_ feel them. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Luke had a sneaking suspicion he might know exactly what Coby was going through. “When did it start?”

“Just today, when I came into the studio. I felt like I walked into a wall.”

 _That’s because you kind of did_. Luke squeezed his shoulder. “When all this is over, you and I need to have a talk about something, okay? I think I know what the problem is, but I can’t fix it right now.”

If the ysalamiri were affecting Coby this hard, he wasn’t just a little bit Force sensitive, like Luke originally suspected. Luke might have just found his first potential student.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Arica came up to them and took Luke’s arm, wearing a bright smile. For a weird second, Luke had the urge to recoil, then it passed. 

“Yeah,” Luke said, then grinned at Coby. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and go home tonight, wouldn’t have to worry about doing that tango.”

“No, you can’t!” Coby exclaimed. “If you lose now, everyone will think you cheated!”

“He’s right,” Arica said. “I mean, no pressure or anything, but he’s right. We have to make it through to tomorrow night at least.”

“No pressure,” Luke repeated wanly. 

“You can do it,” Coby said. “It’ll prove to everyone that Jorlonn is a big dumb moof milker.”

“Places, let’s go!” Lischelle started herding them toward their spots for the opening number.

“Live! From Coruscant! It’s Dancing Across the Galaxy!”

#

Han and Leia were in their customary places with Coby’s parents. Han was already on edge, expecting the tightness in Luke’s step as he crossed the floor in the opening number. Still Luke managed a wink to let them know he was okay as he swept around their side. But Han could see something was off with Coby too. He half-turned to Leia and saw she’d picked it up as well, but he was truly alarmed to see Coby’s parents, who looked worried to see Coby’s usual milion-watt exuberance dimmed to a tight smile. When the number ended, Zara grabbed Leia’s hand, shaking her head.

Jhcor welcomed them to the first night of the finale, explaining this season’s new wrinkle.

“We have all new voting computers, and we are going to withhold the judges’ scores on your favorites until the end. So if you want Luke, or Coby, or Jorlonn to hold up the mirror ball trophy tomorrow night, you need to be on your datapad, sending in your votes! Tonight, each of our competitors will be dancing the same dance, the famous Golden Waltz!”

“We also have some new spectators here at the side of the dance floor. Wendella?”

The Twi'lek was standing next to the ysalamiri cage and briefly explained why the creatures were there, as part of a package that showed Jorlonn’s comments and Luke’s serene answers from the morning show. The two of them were separated on the floor by Coby, who had edged closer to Luke.

Waltzing order had Coby out first, then Luke, then Jorlonn. When a camera ended up near their table, Leia braced for the worst. During Luke’s packaged intro, the question of who had invented the waltz came up and Leia shot a mock sour look at Han, who picked up her intent and returned her consternation.

The costumers had split the difference and put Luke into a traditional Corellian tail coat over Alderaanian pants, worn millennia ago for fighting torronos. The sequined pants should have been at odds with the dark green of the coat, but the costumers made it work. And on Luke, the green of the jacket drew out the blue in his eyes. Leia couldn’t help remembering the weekend they had taught him the dance. When Luke caught her eye with a knowing grin, she remembered too and gave him a warning look. His grin only widened. What was he up to?

Then he promptly surprised both of them when the dance started by gliding across the floor as lightly as he moved with a lightsaber. For once, his timing was dead on.The judges praised him for learning the timing at last. Luke couldn’t help but grin, remembering sitting on the edge of bed, laughing, as Han and Leia looked surprised when they both sang the same little song as a trick to keep the time consistent. He shot a glance at them before they left the floor and caught their smiles in return.

#

“And… we’re off the air!” came the call a few hours later. Coby and his partner hugged each other tight while Luke rushed over to see him, for once not thinking of Han and Leia first.

“Coby, I’m so sorry—” he started.

“I’m not!” And true to his words, Coby beamed at Luke. “This is the best thing that could have happened, don’t you see? If you’d gone home tonight, everyone would still be saying you cheated. And if Jorlonn had gone home tonight, then I’d have to compete against you in the finals, and I didn’t want to do that. Now, when the scores go up tomorrow, and you win this thing, nobody will be able to say you cheated!” He peered around Luke’s shoulder to where Jorlonn stood talking to an entertainment news show crew. “Kick his ass tomorrow, will you?”

Luke laughed and shook his head. “I’ll try.”

#

Leaving the studio was like leaving a stifling, choking cantina for clear, pure air. Luke paused outside the stage door and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to reach out for Han and Leia to either side of him. He could feel them again, their bright, reassuring presence in the Force. He lowered his shields just enough to feel the bustle around him, for once welcoming the noise and letting it wash over him.

“Hey, kid. You okay?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” It was like putting his boots on the ground again after a long stint in space, a feeling of coming back home. Luke glanced over at Leia and saw some of the same thing on her face.

“Coby’s not wrong,” Leia said. “If you can just win it all tomorrow, we can put all of this behind us.”

“Yeah, so easy,” Luke said dryly. “My entire reputation as the last Jedi hinges on how well I can dance a tango tomorrow night.”

Han scowled as he ushered them through the crowd of paparazzi and they climbed into a waiting speeder. “I don’t like this,” Han said, for at least the fifth time that Luke had counted. 

“Han, we’ll be fine, both of us.”

“You two don’t seem to remember that night on Dathomir. I do. I watched you two almost come unglued. Never seen either of you so unsure of yourselves. Rancors coming down on us, and the Nightsisters trying to use a pack of those damned lizards against each other and us. I’m shooting those miserable things as fast as I can and none of it made a difference. That was one of the worst damn nights of my life. And that’s sayin’ something.”

“This isn’t the same though,” Luke said. “We weren’t ready for it then, and we were fighting. And honestly, it’s not nearly as intense this time.”

“I still don’t trust any of this. Something feels hinky. You mean to tell me that neither one of you gets that? At all?” Han looked between them, and Luke and Leia both shrugged. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“It’s just one more night,” Leia said. 

“Some of it, anyway.” Luke settled back into the cab’s seat and smiled. “We weren’t the only ones affected by the ysalamiri. I might have a student.”

“That’s what was wrong with Coby!” Leia exclaimed.

Luke nodded. “The ysalamiri hit him hard. I think he might have a lot of potential.”

By the time they got home, they’d formulated a plan to talk to Coby’s parents.

#

The second day of the finals wasn’t much easier. The crew was down in the dumps without Coby around onstage, and truth be told, Luke was a little bit too. If it had been him and Coby in the finals, he could have gone into it not caring which of them won. But now? Now too much was riding on him winning. Everything he wanted to do, all of his plans for training a new generation of Jedi—they could all be in trouble if Jorlonn’s accusations managed to gain further traction.

Luke _had_ to win.

Dress rehearsal went well enough. All the former competitors had returned, along with their cheering sections—except Devonoa, who’d never had a consistent cheering section—she insisted she didn’t need one.

As the moments counted down to the beginning of the show, Luke went looking for Arica. He thought he’d seen her just near—

Just before he rounded the corner to a quiet alcove, he heard Arica’s voice. “That’s not my problem, Jorlonn. _Your_ job is to beat him. If you can’t do that, maybe our leader should’ve picked a better has-been for the competition.”

Luke froze in place, listening.

“If you were doing _your job_ , then I’d be able to beat him,” Jorlonn retorted. “You almost had him, but I guess your charms just weren’t enough. Maybe our leader should’ve hired a prettier coach.”

Luke peeked around the corner in time to see Arica crowd into Jorlonn’s space. 

“Listen, you kriffing traitor. The only thing I was hired to do was make Skywalker look bad. Break up that happy little home of his—”

“And from the looks of things, you’re doing a bang-up job of that.”

It took all of Luke’s self-control to keep from demanding answers. He pressed back against the wall, his hands curled into fists as he forced himself to keep listening.

“That’s not my fault! Organa and Solo were supposed to be on Riosa until the end of the show season, I don’t know why they came back early.”

Somehow, the attacks on Riosa were connected… to this show? Luke tried to make sense of it, and tried to keep control of the anger growing in his chest.

“If he loses now,” Shijou was saying, “everyone will think he’s been cheating all along. Of course, I wouldn’t have had accuse him of cheating if you weren’t actually _teaching_ him.”

Arica sniffed. “I do have some professional pride. Not my fault your partner isn’t as good. Besides, maybe he _has_ been cheating. I didn’t expect him to do this well.”

“Arica, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had feelings for the Jedi.”

“That’s because I’m a better actor than you ever were, Shijou.” Arica’s voice was cold. “Just do your job and let’s try to salvage something from this disaster.”

Luke had pressed his luck long enough, he crept back the way he came, trying to put together everything he’d heard.

Then he heard Lischelle calling for places, and he had no time to think. 

The last show flew by, with retrospectives and clips of past performances. Jorlonn went back to perform his freestyle a second time, and won a nearly perfect score from the judges. His scores from the night before were still a mystery, but Luke had his work cut out for him. 

The longer he waited for his turn to perform, the more Luke had a chance to stew over what he’d overheard. When he met up with Arica backstage for their entrance, he could barely stand to look at her.

“Luke, what’s wrong?” She touched his arm, and he understood, suddenly, why she’d been so easy to trust, so likeable and why that had changed the day before.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that much,” he said. “You don’t even look like you’re bothered by the effects of the ysalamiri, so I’m guessing you’ve been around them before. Maybe with the Empire?”

“Luke, what are you talking about?” Her eyes, though, were a little too wide to be believable. 

“The Force. You’ve been using it—at a low enough level that I missed it until it was gone. Don’t try to deny it.”

She smiled up at him sidelong, with a flutter of her lashes. “I kept hoping you’d notice. I thought, maybe, you’d be able to teach _me_ —”

“I heard you talking to Jorlonn earlier.”

She kept trying to play innocent. “What do you—” 

“You’re working together.” Luke tried to keep his temper in check, feeling the ice wanting to form in his veins. _They put Han and Leia in danger_ was the thought that kept thrumming through his mind like a drumbeat.

Arica’s smile dropped, and her expression flattened out into a cold stare. “I told him, I _told_ him, never here at the studio, but he had to pick a fight.”

“Who are you working for?”

“Oh _please_ , Skywalker. This isn’t one of the holovids you feature in. I’m not going to stand here and confess all just because you asked.”

“And all of this, the kiss, the tabloids…?”

“You’re sweet. Not much of a challenge, but sweet.” She patted him on the cheek before he could jerk away. 

There were only seconds left before they had to go out on stage. Luke was running out of time. “Leave Han and Leia out of this. Whatever you’ve got going on—” 

“It’s too late. And now we have to go out there and have a connection.” Arica smiled sweetly and looked him dead in the eye. “I feel connected. Don’t you?”

That was when Luke realized he was going to lose.

#

Leia knew something was wrong the moment Luke came out on stage.

Several things, actually. She’d watched the rehearsal segment with a growing sense of unease, her skin prickling like a storm was coming. Normally she’d suspect that what she felt was coming from the Force, but that was impossible. This was just good old fashioned instinct. Luke’s body language was off, way off. 

“What the _hell_ is he wearing?” Han said first.

“Not much,” Leia answered dryly. And it was true. Even in the dim light before the number started, Luke stood in his starting position, his head down, wearing nothing but a pair of black Corellian cut trousers. The audience was already restless.

“When he said the dance was going to be ‘stripped down’, I didn’t think he meant it like that!”

“Calm down, Han. Look at him. Something’s going on.”

The music started and Arica was a vision in a purple open-backed dress, slinking around Luke trying to get his attention. At first it didn’t work, but when it did, Leia heard Han draw a breath.

Luke was _pissed off_. Leia wasn’t sure it was an act. His movements were crisp and sharp with loathing and Arica responded in kind. Each spin was a tiny act of violence, tightly controlled like speaking through gritted teeth. 

Leia had never seen him move with such precision. It was breathtaking. 

It was also, she was forced to admit, hotter than hell. Han took her hand at some point and they sat there squeezing each other’s hands fiercely. The audience was losing their minds, screaming every time Luke and Arica made eye contact.

In an echo of their earlier dances, Luke and Arica stalked each other around the stage, only where before there was an intensely sexual energy, now it was subsumed beneath something darker—darker enough that Leia was a little nervous. 

“What _happened_?” she muttered to Han. “Luke looks like he’s going to tear her to pieces and I’m not sure it’s an act.”

All they could do was watch as the two of them spun into the final pose, both of them panting as the applause threatened to take the roof off. Whatever else about the change in their dynamic, it was intense, palpable, and the audience had eaten it up.

#

Luke straightened first and smiled at Arica. “Oh, I definitely felt connected,” he said softly as he slipped her under his arm a little harder than he had before. Still they were all smiles as they strode over for their scores. 

Kelfer wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Every time, I think you two can’t get it hotter in here and you do! Alin, let’s start with you.”

The audience roar was approaching the sound level of a liftoff of the Rebel fleet. “Luke, my lad, that was a proper tango and your technique was flawless. This time, you had the passion. And at last, last night and this, you had the timing! Well done!”

Luke managed a smile, and a half bow. For a minute, he didn’t care what was happening. In a strange way, it felt like the day he had finally managed to float multiple rocks in the air. 

Then Brendan nearly came across the judges’ table at them. “Luke! My boy— _that_ was a tango. Full of raw passion and fury!”

 _You’ll never know how much._ Luke kept his smile.

“Every move was precise and controlled, but at the same time, I felt like you were just barely holding it in check. That was the dance of the competition!”

“Viviken?”

She shot a smile Luke’s way. “I knew you had it in you! Like Alin said, last night and tonight, you had the timing, the precision—and you kept your connection to us. You were connected to the music and the emotion of the dance and you made us feel it!”

The judges announced tens in unison as Luke and Arica took the stairs up to Wendella. Both sets of scores from the two nights were revealed—Luke and Jorlonn were tied. The audience went wild.

Wendella met Luke and Arica with a smile. “So, it’s a tie! It’s up to the audience now. Any worries?” 

Luke smiled. “None at all.” And to his surprise, it was true. Not just because the audience was on his side, but because no matter what happened, the threat that Arica and Jorlonn and whoever they were working for might pose to the Republic was much more important.

The newest wrinkle of _Dancing_ was real time voting, instituted in the previous season. With a wait for the results, Holonet 13 previewed its newest comedy in the break as holonet voting began.

With the break, the studio turned into a milling mass of dancers and the crowd, waiting. Luke found Han and Leia, relieved at least that the performance was over. He caught sight of Jorlonn with his young wife—was she wife number two or number three?—and smiled at him grimly. 

“Luke, what happened?” Leia could always read him. She knew something was wrong. She put a hand on his arm, and the real source of Luke’s agitation erupted. 

He kept his voice low, and a smile plastered on his face. “Arica and Jorlonn are working together. I overheard them. Lost my temper at Arica, so she knows I know.”

“Working together, what, on the show?” Han was instantly there, ready to jump in—with blaster if needed.

“No it’s worse.” 

Devonoa stopped by and interrupted, scooping Luke into a hug Chewie would’ve been envious of. “You did great out there, kid. You know he doesn’t stand a chance of getting the votes you do. Me and Coby told everybody to vote for you.”

“Thanks, Devonoa.” Luke’s smile was real this time.

“You—all three of you—you’ve done good.” She thumped Luke and Han on the shoulder before moving on.

Luke waited until she was out of earshot. “It’s all a set up. Arica was supposed to make me look bad, Jorlonn was supposed to beat me.”

“But who would bother with that?” Leia asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Some last bit of the Empire, it sounds like. Leia, they mentioned Riosa. It was a ploy to get the two of you away from me. Everything that’s happened has to do with this. All those people that died…”

Leia had her thoughtful expression on. “Discredit you, split the three of us up… they might’ve seen that as a major blow to the Republic, and to the Jedi.”

“They put the two of you in danger to—to what, to get to me?” Luke felt the anger threatening to rise again, the urge to grab Jorlonn and Arica both and demand answers.

“It’s not like it’s the first time that’s happened, kid.” Han tried to make it a joke, but Luke didn’t laugh.

“How many more times is it going to happen? When will I stop being a liability for both of you?”

“Luke, look at me,” Leia demanded, and then turned him to face her. “We’re here. We’re fine. We’ll track down who’s behind this, we always do.”

Han looked around cautiously. “You don’t think they have anything planned for tonight, do you? Luke’s vulnerable right now…”

“They would have already.” Luke said it, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. 

“If anything happens, I’m taking out the damned lizards,” Han growled.

Just then Lischelle started herding everyone back to places. They were ready to come back from the break.

Leia and Han both gave Luke a quick embrace, then hurried back to their seats. He was stuck with Arica back at his side.

Jhcor and Wendella put off announcing the winners as long as they could, with yet another recap of the entire season of the show. Finally the spotlights came up on Luke and Arica, and Jorlonn and his partner.

The band started playing tense music, and finally Jhcor said, “It all comes down to this. Jorlonn and Cisi, Luke and Arica, you’ve all worked hard and impressed the judges, but as you know, your scores are currently tied. The winner has been decided by our viewing audience. We’ve tallied your votes, and the winners and new champions of _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ are…”

He waited an immensely long time. The cameras zoomed in on Luke and Jorlonn and their partners, while the audience started to yell louder and louder.

Finally, after what felt to Luke like an hour, Jhcor said, “...Luke and Arica!”

Luke didn’t need the Force to feel the anger coming from Jorlonn, despite his white shark’s smile. 

Jhcor came over to them. “Congratulations to you both! It’s been a thrilling season! What do you have to say?”

Luke smiled his best farmboy smile at Arica, not missing the glint in her eyes that didn’t match the smile she wore. “I couldn’t have done it without Arica. She really is responsible for all of it.”

“Oh no,” Arica shot back, smiling brightly at Jhcor. “Luke was an amazing student. I knew he’d be good, but even I underestimated just how good.”

Jhcor must have sensed something between the two of them, because he stepped back and went to interview Jorlonn, who tried to play the good sport.

Aware of the cameras still on him, and the audience still watching, Luke leaned over to Arica and murmured, “We’ll find out who’s behind this. Tell me and save us some time.”

Arica’s smile never wavered. “Pound sand, you kriffing trail of Hutt slime.”

“All right,” Luke said, feeling the same calm falling on his shoulders that he always felt when a course of action became inevitable. “But I want you remember that I gave you a choice, Arica.” He could at least give one to her—he’d liked her, whether that was real or not. Jorlonn, however, would get no chances and no choices.

The cheering sections came on stage and Luke was happy to be caught up in a hug from both Han and Leia. 

“You did it, kid!” Han was beaming at him. Leia’s smile was just as bright, and for a moment all Luke could think of was how much he loved them both. 

He didn’t think about anything else, not about the cameras, not about the audience that was there, he just… loved them. Luke looked at Leia’s proud smile and reached for her, cupping her jawline before leaning in for a sweet kiss. Dimly aware of the roar of the crowd, he glanced up at Han and did the same to him before he could lose his nerve. Equal kisses. Both unmistakable in intensity and meaning. If they’d all just been open with this from the start, how much trouble might it have saved?

He dragged them close to him, holding each possessively around the waist. He’d timed it well, just as the ending credits of the show were rolling, so no one had time to question them on the air.

Well, at least not the hosts. But Jhcor couldn’t resist, finding a camera on him and shouting above the din. “That sound you hear is members of our crew paying off bets on exactly who Luke was seeing!” 

Confetti was raining down as Luke hoisted the trophy at the prompting of Lischelle just before Flynn’s voice boomed out of the sound system. “And we are clear! Thank you, gentle beings, for one helluva season!” 

With the cameras off, Luke looked at them, in the circle of their arms as he had been so long ago on Yavin. He gave them a cautious smile as they bent heads close to each other.

“Luke?” Leia looked surprised, but not upset—yet.

“Let’s talk about it when we get home,” Han said, barely able to hear them even this close. The crowd of dancers and cheering sections had flooded the floor and they were pushed along with it. Before they could draw breath, an entertainment news crew fought their way to them on the floor. Luke turned on the charm, yelling over the noise, smiling for the camera, and not letting go of Han and Leia.

#

They managed to fight their way out finally, giving Luke just enough time to pull on a shirt before fleeing. There’d be another round of interviews starting early in the morning—especially given what they’d just officially revealed. The paparazzi was waiting for them, already smelling the blood in the water. Luke, now clear of the ysalamiri’s influence, convinced a few of them to look the other way long enough for them to climb into a speeder. Leia’s commlink was already buzzing as they settled in, but she ignored it.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Luke said. “I shouldn’t have done that without talking to you first, I just—I saw you there, and—”

Han glanced at Leia then spoke first. “I said from the beginning I don’t care who knows, as long as the two of you are happy. That’s still true.”

Leia nodded. “It was pretty much an open secret anyway.”

Luke, sitting between them, pulled them both close for a long moment. 

“Although you know,” Han said, “there’s going to have to be some rules around here.”

Luke looked up in time to see him grin. “Rules?”

“Rule number one: from now on, you keep your shirt _on_ , kid. At least in public.” He settled back against the seat, with a mock-grouchy look on his face. “You damn near caused a riot tonight.”

“I don’t know.” Leia smiled mischievously—a rare thing for her these days. “I like it when other people look at him.” She curled a hand possessively around his arm. “We have something they want and can’t have.”

“Hey,” Luke protested.

“Shh.” Leia kissed him. “We’re ogling you, be quiet.”

By the time they got home, “ogling” was not on anyone’s minds anymore. 

“I think we’re finally going to try the ‘fresher together again—it’s going to take a lot of help to get all the glitter and spray tan off.” Luke pulled off his shirt and grimaced to see the interior streaked golden tan and silver glitter.

“I think we need to take you over to where I wash the Falcon - I don’t think we have enough water pressure.” Han slid fingers across Luke’s chest and made a face at the slick of golden oil and glitter. “Worse than greasing engine parts. I love you, kid, but this…”

“I don’t know,” Leia said appraisingly. “With the last of the blond, it reminds me of the boy from Tatooine. And trying to find out exactly where his tan line ended.”

Luke flushed and Han laughed. “I remember that it _didn’t_ ,” Han said, steering Luke toward the refresher. “You never did tell us what you got up to back home.”

“Never gonna, either.” Luke grinned, letting the two of them finish undressing him. “It’s more fun to let your imaginations run wild.”

Eventually, they managed to get him clean. Mostly.

#

“Bombshell of a finale for _Dancing Across the Galaxy_!”

Han paused in turning on Leia’s favorite early early morning show. In the dim light, the glitter sparkled. “Kinda like this.” He grinned, took Luke’s hand and Leia’s in his and held them up so that the screen light reflected off the sparkles. “You too.”

“I thought we washed all that off,” Leia muttered. The three of them were half-awake and snuggled together, no one in a hurry to get out of bed or put on clothes.

“We’ll be finding it for weeks,” Luke predicted. 

“Shh, I want to hear this.” Han turned up the volume.

“Last night’s finale of _Dancing Across the Galaxy_ saw not only a new champion crowned, but also laid to rest weeks of speculation and rumors about the relationship between Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, Senator Leia Organa, and General Han Solo. After Skywalker was awarded the trophy for his performance, well… we have the clip right here.”

“Damn, kid, you didn’t mess around.”

“Sources close to the trio say this was no surprise at all. We’ve been unable to reach them for comment.”

“I’ll have to get my staff to put together a press release. They won’t leave us alone otherwise.” Leia curled against Han’s shoulder, reaching behind her to pull Luke closer. 

“In related news, second place finisher and holovid star Jorlonn Shijou is facing some new accusations this morning that he played a role on a recent terrorist uprising on the planet Riosa. Shijou has denied everything, but an investigation is ongoing…”

“Arica will be in the wind by now,” Luke said. “I’m willing to bet that’s not her real name at all.”

“We’ll find her, don’t worry,” Han said. 

“Or she’ll find us.”

Leia nudged Luke. “Get up. We have to go back to Holonet 13 in a few hours.”

“Blast,” Luke groaned. “They’re not going to talk about all the hard work I did winning the show, I know it.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you kissed us in front of millions of people, kid.” Han did not sound sympathetic.

“All right, all right.” He bounded out of the bed with enviable energy, heading for the refresher for the second time in several hours.

Han shook his head and grinned over at Leia. “Helluva thing, the Force. Kid dances his ass off, comes home and wears both of us out, and now he’s ready to save the galaxy again.”

“That’s not the Force,” Leia laughed. “That’s just Luke.”

Luke poked his head back into the room, hair wet, towel held around his hips. “I just had a thought. With Coby being my first real student and all, do you think Holonet 13 would be interested in producing a show on his first year of training? They could follow us around and—”

“ _No_!” Leia and Han said in unison, and Han threw a pillow at him. Luke managed to keep a straight face for about three seconds before all three started laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much to everybody who's read and commented on this. We really didn't expect this story to get as involved as it did--it was supposed to just be crack! We hope you had as much fun reading it as we did writing it.


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